


I Feel It Too

by RiotFalling, WhiteIronWolf (adoctoraday)



Series: Bound To You [4]
Category: Iron Man (Movies), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Aftercare, Alternate Universe - BDSM, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Bucky Barnes Has PTSD, Cuddling & Snuggling, Dom Bucky Barnes, Dom/sub, Domspace, Edgeplay, Flashbacks, Hand Jobs, M/M, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Post-Avengers: Age of Ultron (Movie), Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Reference to Past Non-Con, Sub Tony Stark, Subspace, gentle domination
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-03
Updated: 2020-08-03
Packaged: 2021-03-06 07:34:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 35,556
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25689682
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RiotFalling/pseuds/RiotFalling, https://archiveofourown.org/users/adoctoraday/pseuds/WhiteIronWolf
Summary: There's very little in his life that Bucky would say makes him happy--except of course, the time he spends with Tony. That doesn't mean the nightmares stop though, it only means that he clings a little harder to the way Tony makes him feel.Tony doesn't trust easily, and yet here he is, letting Bucky Goddamn Barnes strip him bare and touch him. He's a fool for even daring to hope that this won't end badly, but here he is, hoping nonetheless.
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Tony Stark
Series: Bound To You [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1806055
Comments: 145
Kudos: 495





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was written by WhiteIronWolf 
> 
> [You can find me @TheRollingStonys on tumblr! Just ask for Mod Stella!](https://therollingstonys.tumblr.com/)
> 
> [Join us in our tumblr group chat and get sneak peeks of new chapters, discuss meta and headcanons, and participate in easter egg hunts for spoilers!](https://www.tumblr.com/chat/0_JOa_w6Jki6xyaWadq4Ww/bound-to-you)

_The collar around his neck is a constant reminder that he is a toy, a tool, an asset._

_He is nothing more than what they want him to be._

_“Look how pathetic he is,” the handler says, laughing cruelly as he nudges his partner. “Nothin but a dumb slut.”_

_The other man laughs and saunters over to grab his jaw, grip cruel and harsh, bruising. His eyes are mean and dark, “You’ll take whatever we give you, won’t you_ **_slut_** _?”_

_The Asset nods minutely, because he is not allowed to speak, not_ **_able_ ** _to speak around the thick gag they have stuffed in his mouth._

_By now he knows how to breathe—slow and steady through his nose so he doesn’t panic._

_The worst times are when they use him and deliberately pinch his nose till he passes out._

_Waking up bruised and bloodied and_ **_dirtied_ ** _is not altogether uncommon for the Asset._

_If he could have likes and dislikes, if he was_ **_allowed_ ,** _he wouldn’t like it or allow it to happen._

_But he’s just a toy, a tool, an asset._

_“I think it’s time to play a little, don’t you?” the man asks the handler, hands unbuckling his belt. “We can’t have him forgetting his place.”_

_The handler laughs, grinning as he saunters over. “_ **_Kneel_** _,” he orders, smirking when the Asset’s knees buckle and send him to the floor._

_“That’s right, you know your place, don’t you,” the other man laughs, the words followed closely by a backhand that has the Asset tasting blood._

_“Hey did you hear what they managed to get this slut’s hole to take yesterday?”_

_The sound of a zipper opening is loud, the scent of flesh growing in his nose as the men approach. The Asset goes away in his head, letting his body run on autopilot as the men order him to open his mouth._

_The gag is gone now and he opens his mouth like he’s been ordered to._

_“Lets see if we can’t do better,” the handler murmurs, smirking cruelly as he pulls his cock out._

_He is a good toy, a useful tool, an asset._

* * *

Bucky jolts awake from the nightmare, trembling and sweating, the taste of cotton in his mouth from where he had bitten down on his pillow to smother his screams. 

His heart thunders in his chest as he breathes raggedly, halfway bitten off sobs escaping on every other breath, limbs twitching as he shakes, cold sweat on his chest and back. 

Everything hurts and his jaw is clenched so tight he’s surprised his teeth haven’t shattered under the force of it, and when he tries to loosen it he realizes he’s shredded the pillow between his teeth. Grimacing, he spits out the wet fabric and rolls his jaw to try and loosen it even as he struggles to breathe normally. 

Fuck, he _hates_ these memories, and the worst part is, they’ve been coming more and more frequently lately. 

He’s reluctant to put any cause onto it, but he can’t help but think that his time with Tony is at least part of the reason why he’s suddenly having terrible nightmares about being forced to submit for seventy years. 

Covering his face with shaking hands, he forces himself to take slow steady breaths, letting the training of the Asset bleed through till the shakes have stopped and he’s breathing regularly. He can’t shut away the training entirely, but he can ignore it if he tries hard enough—and he _does_ try, because it’s not _enjoyable_ to look at every person that passes on the street or bumps his elbow and immediately see ten different ways to kill or disable them. 

Forcing himself up, he strips the bed methodically and then pulls out his sewing kit and starts repairing the hole in the pillowcase his teeth had made. The needle slips in and out of the fabric, easy as a knife through flesh and he has to pause and swallow down bile, because apparently, today is going to be one of _those_ days. 

He finishes the sewing and then washes the sheets, the steady thump of the machine soothing as he ties his hair back and drags out the cleaning supplies. He works methodically, dusting everything down, even the blinds on the windows, and then sweeps the floors, pushing and moving furniture out of the way till he’s satisfied.

The bucket gets filled with hot water, vinegar and a touch of soap and then he gets down on his hands and knees and scrubs every floor till they’re shining. By the time he’s done his knees ache and his hands are red and raw from the vinegar, but his head is a little clearer. 

Having a task to occupy his hands and mind has always helped, to varying degrees. 

He remakes the bed, turns the coffee maker on and then selects a Robert Johnson record, fingers gentle as he sets the needle down, the white scratchy noise of the album filling the air for a moment before the music begins. 

He makes eggs and toast and slices up bananas and strawberries to go with it, pausing when the feel of the knife through the fruit reminds him of slicing through an abdomen. The strawberry stains his fingers red, the flesh pulpy and soft like the soft insides of a person and he gags, tossing the knife into the sink with a clatter. 

He closes his eyes, swallowing hard at the urge to vomit, taking deep, shaky breaths till the sensation passes. He’s aware he’s shaking again, fine tremors running through his hands, and he washes them off carefully till the red is gone and they’re clean again. 

Light from the windows is streaming in, soft and grey and the patter of rain on the glass helps ground him—there was never any weather in the places they kept him. No sunlight, no rain, no wind, just cold hard concrete all around him. 

He opens the window in the kitchen and inhales the scent of wet pavement and exhaust, the cool summer air on his sweaty face comforting. He wishes once more that he had a place outside the city to escape to—the crush of humanity and the endless sound and lights wears on him. 

He eats at the table, slowly, methodically, the lingering scent of vinegar on his hands making his sensitive nose twitch. When he finishes he switches the record to the other side and goes to shower, the words of the songs all but drowned out when he sticks his head under the water and doesn’t move till he hears the white noise of the record ending. 

He washes and dries himself off quickly, efficiently. He chooses soft fabrics for today, already knowing he’s going to be hyper aware of _everything_. The fleece lined sweatpants are warm and cozy and the red Henley he pulls on is worn and ragged at the sleeves, but soft and comforting. 

He switches out the record for another and makes a cup of tea, inhaling the peppermint deeply and letting the soothing scent of it ease an iota of the stress residing in his shoulders. 

By the time all of this is done it’s a more respectable hour, and he picks up his phone, biting at his lip as he debates who to call. Some part of him wants Steve, wants to hear his voice and see his comforting blue eyes, but right now, he knows that Steve is the last person who would be able to help him. 

Instead he fires off a text and waits a few minutes, sipping his tea and watching it rain. 

The phone rings, and he answers. 

“Hey birdbrain,” he murmurs, voice hoarse and tired but as gently playful as he can manage. 

“How’s it going Frosty?” 

Bucky smiles weakly, “Not so great man, it’s one of those days.”

He hears soft noises in the background and the sound of liquid being sipped before the other man sighs lightly, “Tell me about it,” he murmurs, voice warm and friendly and suddenly tears rush to Bucky’s eyes, throat so thick with gratitude he can’t speak. 

Sam doesn’t say anything as Bucky struggles to breathe, or when he gasps out a choked off sob, just stays a strong, steady presence in silence, and somehow that’s better than any words he could have offered. 

Wiping at his face with one shaky hand, Bucky exhales unevenly and finally finds himself able to speak. “They forced me to submit,” he whispers, “used drugs and whipping and mind control till I gave in and then did it over and over again till every urge to fight back was _gone_. They made me submit and I _hated it,”_ he whispers, voice full of loathing and rage. 

“They _broke me_ ,” he whispers raspily, “they stole who I was and put some fucking killer there instead and I _hate it.”_

Sam hums thoughtfully, but doesn’t say anything, not for a long time, not till Bucky has poured out every hateful and hurtful thought in his head that’s been screaming at him since he woke up. He’s shaking again, and the skin on his face feels hot and stretched, dried tears salty like he’s spent the day at the beach. 

“First of all, I’m glad you reached out man,” Sam murmurs, “and second,” he sighs heavily here and Bucky can almost picture him shaking his head, “fuck Hydra man.” 

Bucky actually laughs at that, and sure, it’s wet and a little teary, but _fuck_ it feels good to laugh. He can hear the smile in Sam’s voice as he continues speaking, the morning slipping by as they discuss his feelings and nightmares and finally, _finally_ work their way around to Bucky admitting that he’s doming someone and that it could be the trigger for these recent nightmares. 

“Huh, well, I guess the question is; does this new partnership and the pleasure you get out of it balance out the nightmares? Is it worth it?” 

Tony’s face, soft and sweet with subspace comes to Bucky’s mind immediately and he feels himself relax a little, just at the thought of it, a faint smile on his face as he nods. 

“Yea, Sam, it’s the first thing I’ve felt good about in a year,” he admits, “To—he’s the first person that it feels like actually _sees_ me, and not just the arm or all the terrible things I’ve done. He doesn’t expect me to be someone I can’t remember how to be.” 

He swallows hard, “He just needs me to be his dom and take care of him, and the rest of it doesn’t matter.”

“That sounds like a good thing to me,” Sam murmurs. “Sounds like you have something that makes you happy.”

Bucky nods fervently, “It— _he_ does,” he whispers. “I’m just...what if I fuck this up?” he asks, “I haven’t...they made me…” he exhales shakily and then swallows hard and gives himself a few deep breaths to gather his thoughts, grateful once again that Sam stays quiet and lets him think. 

“They made me submit for so long I’m worried I won’t know how to be a good dom. I’m worried I’ll hurt him. I don’t...I _can’t_ Sam, he doesn’t deserve that.”

Sam makes a thoughtful sound, “Do you want to hurt him?” he asks, “in a good fun kink way, or in a mean and sadistic way?” 

Bucky shakes his head vehemently, “No, no, neither of us want that. I don’t want to hurt him, I want him to feel good. If he wants something milder with pain I’ll give that to him, but I don’t wanna hurt him for real.”

Sam hums and Bucky can picture him nodding, “Then keep that in mind when you get caught up worrying about this. These kinds of intrusive thoughts and feelings aren’t uncommon and confronting them with rationality and logic is generally helpful.”

“Yea, okay,” Bucky agrees softly, thinking that he’ll need to make a list of suggestions to try and help when he’s feeling like this. 

“From the way you’re talking to me about this man, it sounds like you have some feelings for him as well.” 

Bucky flushes at that, because he didn’t think he was so obvious, but then, Sam has always seen a lot more than just what meets the eye. He was the first one to see how deeply uncomfortable it made Bucky to be around Steve and his expectations for who Bucky was. 

“You aren’t the type of man to hurt those you care about, or anyone really,” Sam murmurs, “and I _know_ , you’re a soldier and you fought a war, and you killed a lot people, but what you gotta ask yourself at the end of the day is; who are you _now_ , and what is it you want?” 

He pauses for a moment and then continues, “Because if you want to _hurt_ people, and if you want to _kill_ people, I’ve got the number of a merc who will get you jobs doing that. _But,_ if that’s not what you want—if you want to be a good dom, and a good man, you gotta keep doin what you’re doin man. You have to ask yourself hard questions and keep talking to me about your trauma and trying to get better.” 

Bucky nods, humming softly in agreement. 

“It’s going to suck some days, probably _a lot_ of days, and you’re going to want to give up. But man, _don’t do it_. I know it’s _hard_ and I know the fight is exhausting, but I can promise you, there _will_ be good days to outweigh the bad. And it sounds like to me, you’ve got something good goin on for you already.”

Bucky nods again and sighs heavily, so deeply exhausted he just wants to crawl back into bed and sleep for a year. 

“Can I be honest as a switch and not a therapist for a second?” Sam asks, voice hesitant. 

“Yea, course Sam, always,” he replies, voice hoarse and tired. 

“It sounds to me like you’ve got a good handle on how to be the dom this guy needs given what you know of his past. But I just want to make sure you think about whether he’s the right sub for you—do you get out of this what _you_ need?” Sam asks gently. 

Bucky’s first instinct is to snap that _Tony is perfect fuck you very much birdbrain,_ and then he inhales slowly and thinks about what Sam asked a little more and nods slowly, grateful for the few moments of silence Sam gives him to collect his thoughts. 

“He lets me be gentle and sweet with him Sam, he, he lets me take care of him and _earn_ his submission through trust rather than _taking it_ through brute force or command,” he explains. “That...that means more to me than I can explain.” 

“Alright man, that’s _great_ ,” Sam says, his smile evident even through the phone. “I’m happy for you.”

Bucky smiles tiredly and nods, “Thanks man, really.”

“Anytime Frosty,” Sam teases gently, earning a laugh from Bucky that’s hoarse and tired, but genuine. “Seriously man, anytime you need me, just call,” he says, sounding more serious. 

Bucky nods, “I will, really, thank you Sam.”

“Yea yea, alright, enough of the bromance, did you sleep at all?” Sam asks, concern in his voice evident. 

“Not much,” Bucky admits. 

“Then go nap Frosty. You ain’t got shit to do till four pm, so nap, eat something and then text me later.”

“Sir yes sir.”

“Man shut the hell up and go nap grandpa.”

“Love you too birdbrain.”

Bucky chuckles as Sam ends the call, leaning back in his chair to scrub his hands over his face tiredly. He wrinkles his nose at the vinegar smell and decides another shower is needed before a nap—and then sits there for five more minutes just breathing steadily, slow and calm, till he’s in a sleepy daze that makes it easier to stand up and go shower. 

He tumbles into bed naked after, wet strands of hair plastered to his cheek, but he can’t dredge up the energy to care. 

Instead, he sleeps. 

This time, he dreams of Tony, soft and sweet in submission, leaning into Bucky’s touch with stars in his eyes. 

* * *

Bucky shifts minutely, the duffle bag in his hand heavy with supplies, and once again a thrill of anticipation runs down his spine. He’s been looking forward to this all week—even with the nightmares and flashbacks he’s been having. 

He’s called Sam nearly everyday this week, and some days more than once, and while he’s still worried that he’s going to hurt Tony or that he’ll wind up being a shitty dom, he’s certain that this thing with Tony is what they both need. 

The elevator dings and the gilded doors slide open, revealing the penthouse floor. He steps aside and pauses when he sees the room service cart outside the door like he’d requested upon his arrival, a moment of surprise filling him at the speedy response before he remembers that service like this comes with the package of being rich. 

It’s nice though, having what he needs when he needs it without struggling for it. Something he could get used to, maybe. 

He uses the keycard to unlock the door and pushes the cart into the room, pausing when he sees Tony, asleep on the couch in the sitting area. He automatically catches the door with his foot and eases it shut, holding his breath for a moment till he’s sure he hasn’t woken the other man. 

Stepping around the cart silently, he approaches with all the stealth that being the Asset for seventy years has given him and then stands and stares down at Tony, curled up with his forehead pressed to the back of the couch, an inexplicable fondness filling his chest as he watches him sleep. 

He looks _tired_ Bucky realizes, and he worries that maybe Tony’s not _really_ okay enough for their scene today, and then pauses, because, is _he_? With the way his head has been all week, should they go through with this? 

Tony snores softly and Bucky is startled out of his thoughts, choking back a laugh at the absolutely _cute_ face Tony makes when he’s dreaming.

Pulling out his phone, he takes a picture and sets it as Tony’s contact image, grinning the whole time. He gazes at the photo and then at the man, that warm fond feeling in his chest glowing brighter. 

If Tony isn’t feeling up to their scene today, it’ll be fine—Sam’s words from last night echo in his head; _a shitty dom doesn’t care if you don’t want to do something, and they don’t care if you get off—it’s all about what_ **_they_ ** _want._

Sam had also mentioned a support group for doms with scene related trauma, and the more Bucky thinks about it, the more he thinks he might want to go. Maybe no one will know _exactly_ what he’s been through, but maybe he can find some comfort in the fact that other doms have been through shit too. 

Tony snores again, snorting for a moment and this time Bucky can’t stop the laugh that bursts free. It transforms into a curse when Tony flails and rolls off the couch, _hard._

“Oww _shit_ ,” Tony groans, rubbing sleepily at his eyes while simultaneously trying to look and act normal and Bucky can’t take it anymore, the laughter just bursts out and keeps coming when Tony glares at him. 

“Oh god, darlin, I’m sorry,” Bucky says raggedly, still laughing, holding a hand out to Tony to help him off the floor, “you okay?” 

Tony bats his hand away like an offended kitten and Bucky laughs again, grinning as Tony rises with aggrieved dignity, “I’m _fine_ ,” he huffs, waving one still sleep-clumsy hand as if trying to encompass all of Bucky, “no thanks to you and your super spy sneakiness.” 

Bucky rubs a hand over his jaw to hide his grin, eyes dancing with mirth, “Right, well, you took a pretty good tumble there darlin, maybe I should check out that pretty ass of yours and make sure it’s ok?” he suggests playfully, grinning when Tony sputters and blushes. 

He decides to take mercy instead of teasing further and softens his smile at Tony, “Can I have a hug darlin, or is your pride too bruised?” Tony huffs at him and rolls his eyes but steps forward (eagerly it seems to Bucky, but maybe that’s just him projecting his own eagerness) anyway. 

He sinks into Bucky more quickly than he has the other times they’ve done this and when Bucky rubs his back and presses the lightest of kisses to his hair, he can hear Tony’s soft sigh. “Long week?” he asks quietly, tightening his hug when Tony nods and presses his forehead to Bucky’s clavicle a little harder. 

“Yea, me too,” he admits quietly, “been looking forward to this all week, been just about the _only_ good thing that’s kept me going.”

He feels Tony’s hand spasm where they’re fisted in the fabric of his vest, a soft sound of surprise that Tony probably doesn’t realize he can hear reaching him. “Really?” Tony asks softly, pulling away just enough to look up at Bucky in disbelief and hope. 

He can’t stop himself from cupping Tony’s cheek and smiling at him, “Yea darlin, seeing you is the best part of my week,” he admits, cheeks flushing a little as Tony looks confused and then surprised and then _pleased_. 

“Well…” Tony says, seeming at a loss for words, “that’s, that’s good,” he stammers, cheeks just as pink as Bucky’s. 

He finds himself wanting to caress that cheek but refrains, steps back a bit and smiles instead, “You feeling ok for the scene today? If you’re too tired or just not in the right mood, we can reschedule,” he offers, “it’ll be fine.”

Tony is already shaking his head, “No I’m good, just, had a lot of work keeping me up lately. I’ll be fine.”

Frowning faintly, Bucky reaches out and slides his hand around to the nape of Tony’s neck, gently angling his face up so he can assess more deeply the lines on his face and the dark circles under his eyes. 

“You’re sure?” he asks, lifting a brow. He doesn’t use dom command to get an answer, just lets the force of his authority in this position be the guide for Tony. 

He can feel it when Tony shivers and sees the way his throat works hard and some part of his brain assesses that Tony’s pupils have dilated and his breathing has gotten quicker—signs of arousal.

(Or fear. He’s well acquainted with both and knows how similar they can seem, and even, how they can dance together in the right situation.) 

“Y-yeah I’m sure,” Tony whispers, licking his lips, “I, I want to do this.” His gaze flickers down to Bucky’s mouth for a moment and oh, so it _is_ arousal, he realizes, body going hot with pleasure at the realization that he can so easily make Tony aroused. 

“Good,” he all but purrs, “that’s good. Why don’t you go in the other room and start stripping,” he murmurs, “I’ll be right behind you.”

He releases Tony and smirks at his soft gasp, watching as he nods and then almost trips over his own feet in his hurry to get to the other room. He waits a few moments and then pushes the room service cart along and into the bedroom, leaving it to the left of the loveseat they had used last time before he begins rearranging the furniture.

The desk chair will work best for what they have planned—it’s got a thick cushioned seat, light padding up and around the back and wooden arms with cushioning on top he can tie Tony down to without worry that he’ll end up bruised or uncomfortable. 

He drags the chair over while Tony strips slowly, clearly watching him, curiosity in his gaze. Bucky winks at him just to see his cheeks turn pink and then puts the desk chair in front of the wingback chair by the fireplace. 

He studies it, unsure if he’s satisfied, and then leaves it for a moment to pull the curtains shut. He studies the room from this angle and decides it’s good—they’re both going to be in comfortable seats with good back support.

Glancing over, he finds that Tony is stripped down to his briefs and is looking intensely nervous, arms crossed over his chest as he bites his lip and stares blankly into the empty fireplace. 

That is _not_ a good look, and it sets Bucky on edge, wary that maybe Tony isn’t actually on board with this anymore. 

“Tony?” he calls softly, smiling warmly when the other man jolts and looks to him, wide eyed and very obviously nervous. “Hey,” he murmurs, approaching slowly, “what’s goin on in your head darlin?” 

Tony shifts uncomfortably and shrugs a shoulder, “Just...I don’t know,” he mutters, looking away and curling in on himself. 

“You want to call it and go home?” Bucky suggests gently, “that’s fine if you do. We don’t ever have to do something you don’t want to and aren’t comfortable with.”

He desperately wants to reach out and touch Tony, but he’s not sure that’s the right move right now. 

Tony sighs heavily and shakes his head minutely, “No...I’m just, nervous, I guess?” he murmurs, sounding wary and unsure. 

Bucky nods encouragingly and smiles softly, “Me too darlin,” he admits, lifting a wry brow when Tony looks at him in surprise. “What? You think it’s easy seeing someone as handsome as you undressed and bare for me to touch?” he says softly, teasingly. 

Tony just shrugs again, but he’s blushing now and looking sweetly bashful so Bucky knows he’s on the right track with honesty and a side of flattery. “Tony baby, it’s been a long, _long_ time since I had the honor of having someone’s submission and I’ve _never_ been with someone as sweet and incredible as you,” he says as honestly as he can. 

Because fuck it, what he feels is _nervous_ and _uncertain_ and he kinda thinks that Tony deserves to know he’s not alone in feeling the way he does. He holds both his hands out, palms up in an offering and smiles softly when Tony takes them, rough engineer’s callouses brushing against the ones he has from decades of violence. 

“Flatterer,” Tony accuses, voice about as wobbly as his smile but his grip on Bucky’s hands is firm, “It’s been- I mean it hasn’t been _decades_ or anything, but... it’s been a long time since I’ve done this too.” He drops his gaze, chewing on his lip, and there’s clearly something else he wants to say so Bucky just waits until Tony glances up at him through his lashes and quietly adds “and you- it’s just... different.”

He shifts his hands to slide up Tony’s forearms, squeezing gently. “We’ll take it one step at a time darlin, and if we need to slow down or stop, we’ll do that,” he murmurs, waiting for Tony’s uncertain looking nod before he cups the man’s elbows and tugs oh so gently. 

“Can I have another hug darlin?” 

Tony nods and steps into his embrace, and Bucky can feel the muscles of his back trembling under his touch—Tony is all nerves right now and Bucky needs this hug just as much as Tony does. 

They cling to each other for a long time, Bucky’s face pressed into the crook of Tony’s neck so he can breathe him in, fingers tracing gently up and down Tony’s spine over and over again.

He should have expected that they’d both be nervous, jumping into this the way they have with both of their baggage certainly means that there will be bumps in the road—Bucky just hopes that he’s doing a good job of navigating for both of them. 

Eventually they part, Tony’s hands releasing the fabric of his vest, slipping away almost regretfully from Bucky’s waist. He has a blush of pink on his cheeks and looks more relaxed than he did before, and Bucky can’t help but reach up and brush his fingers over it. 

“Why don’t I show you how I’m gonna tie you up again, and then you can get a few things ready for me and we’ll get started,” he suggests quietly, smiling when Tony nods and shifts closer to him. He pulls out his phone and brings up the picture he’d found of the bindings he’s going to use tonight. 

“This is the tethered Egyptian,” Bucky explains, “it’ll keep your hands up and away, and leave you all open and vulnerable for me to play with,” he murmurs, letting the first bit of heat creep into his words. He feels it when Tony shivers and slides his metal fingers around Tony’s waist to draw him closer. “What do you think?” he asks lightly, smirking faintly when he sees the dazed look in Tony’s eyes. 

“I—it’s, it uh looks good,” Tony whispers, licking his lips, gaze flickering between the image on the screen and Bucky’s face. 

“Good. Now, I want you to grab two towels from the bathroom and put one on the seat of your chair and the other under it so anything that spills or drips will be on there and not the fabric, got it?” he orders firmly, blood heating when he sees Tony shiver again as he nods. 

Patting Tony’s hip gently he nods and nudges him toward the bathroom, “Go on then darlin,” he murmurs, winking at Tony as he stumbles away. Watching him go is a treat—the black briefs he wears are tight on his thighs and ass and Bucky already has grand, grand plans for that ass in mind. 

While Tony does what he’s told Bucky ties back his hair and rolls up his sleeves, ready to get to work. He pulls his supplies out of the duffle bag and goes to the room service cart, pleased to find everything he’d asked for on it. 

He opens his essential oils and drips out vanilla, lavender and sweet orange into the bowl that’s been provided and then drops the hand towels in and sets aside the oils. He sees Tony hovering, looking uncertain again and smiles at him warmly, “Alright darlin, now, I need you to strip and stand still for me so I can tie you up, okay?” he asks gently, no hint of command at all to the question.

Tony gulps and nods, hands trembling as he reaches for the waistband of his briefs. Bucky reaches out, hand hovering between them and Tony pauses, wide eyed. 

“Do you want me to turn around? You can turn too and have your back to me when I get started on the ties,” he offers, hoping that maybe this tiny shift in how they approach the scene might make Tony more comfortable. 

If anything, Tony looks surprised at the offer, and then he’s nodding, some of the tension leaving his shoulders. “I—yes sir, that, that would be good,” he agrees softly, lashes fluttering as he smiles weakly.

Bucky nods and turns around, grabbing the rope off the cart where he’d left it and waits, listening to the rasp of fabric on skin, a shiver running down his spine when he realizes suddenly that he’s going to get to see Tony naked. 

“Uh, I’m ready,” Tony calls, and just like that, it’s time. 

Swallowing hard, Bucky braces himself and turns. He immediately has to bite back a groan because in the low warm light of the table lamp, the muscles of Tony’s back and thighs and ass are all thrown into sharp relief. 

_Christ alive_ Bucky wants to bury his face in this man’s ass and eat him out till he’s _sobbing_. 

He swallows down the urge (for now) and moves forward, reaching out to let his fingers brush over Tony’s shoulder, watching his muscles ripple when he shivers. “Hold still now darlin,” he encourages, “I’ve got you.”

He winds the rope slowly around Tony’s torso, and then up over his shoulders, the slow methodical work easing his nerves and seeming to loosen the tension in Tony’s body as well. 

“Turn for me now darlin,” he murmurs, smiling encouragingly when Tony comes to face him. Bucky keeps his gaze above the navel deliberately, knowing how unnerving it can be to be naked for the first time in front of a new partner. 

“Good job sweetheart, now, arms up and cross ‘em over your chest, yup, just like that,” he says, nodding his approval. Tony shifts and smiles faintly, looking pleased, and Bucky winds the rope around his crossed arms, securing them in place snugly. 

He tugs on the rope and meets Tony’s gaze steadily, “Feel ok sweetheart?” he asks, “should feel like a hug,” he says. 

“Yeah, it’s— feels good,” Tony nods and smiles again, a little warmer than last time, his cheeks flushing a little darker. He doesn’t look anywhere close to subspace, but that’s ok—Bucky figured it would probably take some time for either of them to get in space with how nervous they both are. 

“Good, good,” he murmurs as he resumes tying and looping the rope, “you’re doing beautifully Tony, you look so good all tied up like this.” The blush on Tony’s cheeks deepens and Bucky chuckles softly, reaching up to brush his fingers over it before he ties off the final knot and nods in satisfaction. 

“Okay darlin, time to sit down,” he says, pointing to the chair. Tony nods and sits down gingerly, looking uncertain as Bucky grabs more rope and kneels. “Feet flat on the floor and legs up against the chair,” he orders, feeling the first slow slide of dom space starting to enter his mind. 

He does little ladder ties up Tony’s legs and finishes them off with bows above his knees, legs spread wide enough that his cock is fully visible where it lays against his hip, plump and pink, his balls sitting comfortably between his thighs. 

The sight is enough to make his mouth water, but Bucky is quick to avert his gaze and look up to find Tony watching him back, eyes heavy-lidded. “I’m gonna get my lube and then we’re gonna start, okay?” he asks quietly, “what’s your color?” 

Tony chews his bottom lip and nods unevenly, looking hesitant, even as his pupils dilate and his hips shift almost imperceptibly, as though he’s already aching for a touch. 

“Green sir,” he replies, saying it again, more firmly when Bucky raises a questioning brow. 

“Alright then.” Bucky pats his knee and rises, grabbing the bottle of lube he’d brought before he seats himself in the other chair and shifts to the front of the seat so his knees are very nearly touching Tony’s. 

He lays a towel over his knee and smiles at Tony, “Ready sweetheart?” 

Tony swallows hard and nods, “Yes sir,” he whispers, voice hoarse and rough, but it’s the twitch of his hips and the tiny throb of his cock that gives it away that he’s not just nervous—he’s aroused. “I—what happens if I can’t stop myself from coming?” he asks suddenly, looking worried. 

“You mean do you get punished?” Bucky asks. Tony nods and bites his lip, looking nervous and scared, worry lines between his brows deepening. “Well, that’s alright darlin, if you come, I’ll just keep making you come until you’re sorry,” he replies with a heated grin. 

Tony’s pupils blow wide as his lips part around a sigh of _oh_ , the stunned quality to his voice making Bucky’s skin heat up nicely. 

“So, unless you wanna be kept here and made to come over and over again till you’re sobbing and not enjoying it anymore, I suggest you make sure I know when you’re close,” Bucky murmurs, smile sharp and biting, “got it darlin?” 

Tony nods effusively, swallowing hard, “Yes sir, g-green sir.”

Bucky squirts some lube into his palm and works it around on his fingers under Tony’s heated gaze, getting it warm before he reaches out and closes his fingers around Tony’s cock just below the head. 

Tony gasps softly and twitches and Bucky fights back a groan at how gorgeous he looks, wide eyed, mouth wet and lips bitten, cock shining and flushed a rosy pink. 

Bucky’s pulse thrums faster, blood pounding in his ears as he strokes down Tony’s cock, nice and slow and then back up again, equally as slow and torturous. It twitches in his hand and he sucks in a hard breath because it suddenly hits him—he’s touching Tony _so_ intimately, and it’s something they both want, and _oh_ the tiny sound Tony makes when he strokes down again has his own cock filling slowly. 

He looks away from Tony’s cock and nearly growls at the pink flush on Tony’s cheeks and the blood red his bottom lip has turned from being bitten. “Christ baby, look at you,” he whispers, “you’re a fuckin _dream_ ,” he says, awed and aroused and so damn _wanting_ it leaves him aching. 

Tony whimpers and closes his eyes, sucking in a shaking breath, thighs quivering as Bucky strokes him slowly, so slowly, watching as Tony squirms and bites his lip, obviously trying to keep himself quiet. 

“C’mon now baby, none of that,” he murmurs, reaching up with his free hand to pull Tony’s lip from between his teeth. “Lemme hear you darlin.”

Tony whines and squirms under his steady gaze, and when Bucky squeezes harder on his next downstroke he’s rewarded with Tony’s lips parting around a small breathy moan. His lashes flutter against his cheeks and he pants softly, shifting against the rope and then settling—a pattern of moan, squirm, settle emerging as Bucky keeps stroking him slowly. 

“You sound so pretty when you moan for me baby,” Bucky murmurs low and hot, “you’re the most goddamn gorgeous thing I’ve ever seen.”

Tony whines and blushes harder, shaking his head weakly, and Bucky can’t have that, so he tightens his grip and rubs his thumb under the head of Tony’s cock, grin feral when Tony’s head drops back exposing the lines of his throat as he moans loudly. 

“ _That’s it,”_ Bucky croons, “just let go baby, see how good it feels?” 

Tony nods this time, breath hitching as he starts trying to arch his hips up into Bucky’s grip. 

“Oh look at _you_ darlin, you look so pretty fucking yourself on my hand, bet you feel so good right now huh?” 

Tony nods again, whining and moaning, “Please sir, please,” he pants out, eyes hooded and dark with pleasure. 

“Please what?” Bucky asks teasingly, laughing softly when Tony whines and shakes his head. “Ask for what you want darlin, use your words.”

Tony makes a choked off frustrated sound and lets his head drop back onto the chair, chest working hard to expand against the tight embrace of the ropes as Bucky keeps on stroking his cock, faster than before, but still steady and at the pace Bucky decides. 

“N-no point in a-asking if I’m not go-gonna come yet,” Tony stammers out, dropping his head back down to laugh weakly and grin at Bucky. 

“Aww well I like hearing you beg baby, you sound so sweet saying _please_ ,” Bucky teases, rubbing his thumb under the crown of Tony’s cock again, smirking when Tony shudders and gasps. 

Bucky focuses on the head of his cock for a while, rubbing circles into it with the palm of his hand, the direct stimulation making Tony whine and moan, fingers spasming against his biceps, nails biting into his skin. 

“There we go huh, that feels good doesn’t it baby?” he asks, grip tight as he abandons the head and strokes down, slow slow slow. Tony shakes his head, a choked off sound that’s wrecked and so beautiful falling from his lips. 

“Whassamatter baby? You don’t like it?” Bucky croons, “you don’t like me leaving your pretty cockhead alone?” he asks, chest filled with euphoria as Tony whines and nods and then trembles all over, a sheen of sweat on his brow. 

“ _Please sir,”_ Tony gasps, lashes trembling as he looks at Bucky pleadingly, lips slick and red from being bitten. 

“Oh _baby_ , you beg so nice,” Bucky groans, aching to lean forward and kiss that pretty mouth. Instead, he lifts his metal hand and traces the outline of Tony’s lips, heart skipping a beat when his pink tongue flicks out against the metal. 

He grows further distracted when Tony tips his head forward and licks his finger before closing his lips around it and sucking, _hard._

“Aw _fuck_ baby,” Bucky groans, shifting in his seat at the ache and throb of his cock, “wish this damn thing had better biofeedback, I wanna feel your pretty mouth around me.” 

Tony hums and closes his eyes, tongue working on Bucky’s finger, breath hitching as Bucky strokes him harder than before, faster. The slick sound of his hand moving makes Bucky’s gut clench with need, heat building in his belly at all the beautiful sounds Tony is making. 

He slips a second finger into Tony’s mouth and moans when Tony sucks it eagerly, his swollen lips shining wetly as he drags his tongue over the pads of Bucky’s fingers, eyes heavily lidded and dark as he moans and arches into Bucky’s hand. “That’s it darlin, suck on ‘em, get ‘em nice and wet,” Bucky murmurs, “you’re doing so good baby, Christ, _so good.”_

Tony’s lashes flutter at the praise and Bucky rewards him by stroking a little faster, wrist twisting at the top and squeezing hard on the way down. Tony whines and shakes, moans growing louder and more consistent and Bucky knows; he’s getting close. 

“Baby, lookit me now, c’mon,” Bucky urges, smiling when Tony opens his eyes and looks at him, eyes glazed with pleasure and what Bucky is almost certain is subspace. 

“You’re gonna tell me when you’re close, got it?” Bucky orders, dom command soft and gentle—just enough to get his point across. Tony nods fervently and then whines when Bucky pulls his fingers out of his mouth with a wet _pop_. Chuckling, Bucky pats his cheek, “Can’t talk with your mouth full baby, though I’d like to see you try sometime,” he says, skin going hot and tight at the image of Tony kneeling, Bucky’s cock in his mouth as he tried to speak, the words garbled and wet. 

Tony pants and moans as Bucky keeps stroking him, relentless and hard, thighs shaking and toes curling into the carpet and then— 

“I- _ah,_ I’m gonna come!”

Bucky lets go, leaning back in his seat as Tony sobs and shakes his head, writhing as the orgasm he’d been so close to slips away. A pearl of pre cum pulses out and Bucky groans, watching as it slides slowly down his shaft and onto his balls. 

“Good job baby, you did so good,” Bucky croons, leaning back in to rub Tony’s thigh, soothing him like a spooked horse with praise and sweet words. Tony pants, chest working hard with each raw moan that slips past his lips, leaning hard into the palm Bucky cups his cheek with. 

“Please, please sir, _please,”_ Tony whispers, eyes pleading as he shakes and squirms. 

“Not yet baby, I know it’s hard, but you did so good,” Bucky murmurs, voice hoarse with arousal, “I’m so proud of you baby, you did it, you _did it_.” 

Tony nods weakly and nuzzles his face into Bucky palm, “Did good sir?” he asks, gaze hooded and hopeful. 

“You were _perfect_ baby,” Bucky promises. “So good.” 

Tony preens under the praise and shifts, sighing happily and Bucky can’t help but push some of his hair back from his brow, thumb caressing the delicate bone of his eyebrow. “We’re gonna start again baby, same as before, if you’re gonna come you tell me.”

Tony nods and Bucky pats his cheek gently before pulling his hand away and replacing it with the other, fingers closing on Tony’s cock. They both gasp, Tony harder and louder, eyes going wide as the _toomuchnotenough_ sensation registers. 

Bucky knows it must ache, and indeed, Tony’s cock throbs in his hand where he’s holding it, so he goes slow, something hot and proud and greedy burning in his gut when Tony moans and shifts, trying to get more. 

“That’s it baby, feels so good huh? Bet you wanna come, don’t you?” 

“Yes sir, pl- _oh!”_ Tony’s voice breaks off in a ragged sound, his entire body jolting hard as Bucky swipes his thumb over the slick head of his cock before stroking slowly down the shaft again, and Tony sucks in a hiccuping breath, “please sir!”

“Not yet baby.”

Tony whines and Bucky grins, deciding to change up their pace. When he starts stroking Tony hard and fast the other man gasps, spine arching as his eyes go wide, an almost panicked look of hope filling them. 

“Ahh! Please sir! Please, please, _oh, ah_!” 

Bucky grins, feral and fierce, “No baby, not yet.”

“ _Please!_ ”

Bucky watches as Tony’s thighs quiver and his body jerks, cock throbbing and then, Tony sobs and shakes his head. “I’m gonna— _Sir!_ ”

This time when Bucky removes his hand Tony curls forward with a shout that transforms into a sob, cock twitching and throbbing, but not spilling more than a few drops of pre cum. Bucky runs a soothing hand up and down Tony’s back as he sobs and gasps, choked whines filling the air alongside Bucky’s croons of praise. 

Bucky surges forward, needing to be closer, nuzzling his nose into Tony’s hair. “Baby, you did so _good_ ,” he whispers, face pressed into Tony’s hair, lips at his ear. “Fuck,” he whispers shakily, “darlin, you look so good, you _sound_...fucking gorgeous.”

The joy of Tony’s submission and his perfect behavior thrills Bucky to his bones. The surge of hormones sends him deeper into dom space, head filled with euphoria. He feels almost disconnected from his body—he knows his cock is hard, but that’s barely even registering to him right now. 

All his attention is focused on Tony and giving him what he needs, and the satisfaction that he’s doing good, that he’s making Tony feel good and safe and wanted, it makes his blood sing. 

Tony shivers and leans into him slightly, whines in the back of his throat growing softer as Bucky soothes him. 

“You’re _perfect_ baby, so goddamn perfect for me, the most beautiful thing I’ve _ever_ seen.” He kisses Tony’s hair, long past caring if it’s ok anymore and squeezes the nape of his neck gently, “What's your color baby,” he asks. 

Tony is panting and shaking but he nods weakly and murmurs “Green sir,” and even if the words are a little slurred around the edges, it’s still prompt and clear. Satisfaction fills Bucky’s chest like a warm sun. 

“Good, now, c’mon and sit up baby, we’re not done yet.”

Tony whines and shudders, but does as Bucky says and sits up, pupils blown so wide his eyes look black. Bucky sucks in a hard breath and shakes his head, “ _Fuck_ darlin, you’re all my dreams come true,” he whispers. 

Tony shifts and blushes, surprising Bucky with a “Thank you sir.”

It seems his baby is taking being praised a little easier than last time. 

“You’re welcome baby,” Bucky murmurs, reaching out with his clean hand to caress Tony’s cheek, adoration filling him when Tony leans into it heavily. “My sweet thing,” he croons, “you’re doing so good for me.” 

Tony smiles happily, looking blissful and relaxed, despite the way he’s still shaking a little. His cock is hard and leaking, flushed a deep red and Bucky’s mouth waters with the urge to swallow it down. 

_Someday,_ he promises himself, _someday soon._

Bucky squirts a little more lube into his palm and warms it up again before grinning at Tony, “You ready?” he asks, biting back an urge to lean in and suck a mark into Tony’s elegant throat when he swallows hard and moans softly, nodding his agreement. 

This time Bucky focuses fully on the head of Tony’s cock, barely aware of the words falling low and heated from his lips, too busy watching avidly as Tony shakes apart under his hands, thighs twitching against the hold of the ropes in time with his heaving breaths. He stops twice more when Tony’s whines grow louder and closer together. Neither time did Tony say he was going to come, but part of the scene is keeping Tony a little off guard. 

He starts again and goes slow, stroking down and then pausing, letting Tony whine and moan and beg as his cock throbs in Bucky’s hand. He sweeps back up slowly and swipes away the pre cum, using it to add to the slickness of his touch. 

Bucky is flying on domspace now, head floating and blood running hot in his veins as he watches himself take Tony apart with painfully methodical strokes and squeezes. 

He abandons Tony’s cock for a while, focusing on his balls. He rolls them in his palm and massages them, filthy praise falling from his lips as Tony writhes and moans and begs. He toys with Tony, stroking once and then removing his touch entirely, over and over again till Tony can’t speak around the non stop moans and whines falling from his lips. 

Tony’s head rests back on the chair, chest heaving, spine pulled into a sharp arch, and other than the way he trembles he’s gone completely still, just moaning beautifully between each time Bucky touches him again. Bucky groans at the absolutely _glorious_ sight of his baby so debauched and so free of worldly concerns, just waiting so patiently with only the slightest tremor to give away how _desperate_ he must feel.

“Oh baby, I aughta keep you like this _forever_ ,” he murmurs, stroking down and up once before pausing to speak again, “you’re the prettiest picture of submission, just taking what I give you.”

“Pl-please,” Tony whines, sobbing as Bucky strokes slowly, up and down. 

“I’m gonna start again now baby, and this time, I want you to come.”

Tony gasps and nods eagerly, “Please, yes sir, _please,”_ he stutters out, lifting his head to stare beseechingly at Bucky. 

“Oh darlin, listen to you begging’ so pretty,” Bucky murmurs, “you’re just the sweetest thing ever.”

The blush on Tony’s cheeks extends all the way down to his chest by now, deep pink and so lovely. Bucky reaches out and tweaks a nipple, grinning when Tony gasps and his cock throbs. 

“Yea, someday I’m gonna have to play with these, maybe see if we can get you to come just from this,” he murmurs as he pinches the other. Tony nods fervently and moans, gasping when Bucky pinches it one more time before letting his hand slip away. 

“Here we go now baby, be good for me and come,” Bucky murmurs, head throbbing with desire, cock hard and aching in his jeans. He grips Tony’s cock hard and sets a fast pace, knowing like this it won’t take Tony long to come—not when they’ve been at this for so long. 

Tony isn’t shy or trying to hide his sounds anymore, now he’s moaning loudly, writhing and begging, thighs shaking as that elusive peak approaches once more. 

“That’s it, come for me Tony,” Bucky growls, dom command filling his voice in rich baritones and warm hues. 

He watches, stunned, as Tony cries out, eyes going wide in shock as he’s allowed to tumble into orgasm, head falling back and throat going taut as his cock throbs and twitches and finally starts to spill.

Tony sobs on a breath, body arching into the ropes as he comes, a raw broken sound of pleasure clawing its way out of his throat as Bucky strokes him through it. He’s relentless as Tony comes, whispering filthy praise and stroking his cock, watching in awe as Tony spills over his stomach and Bucky’s hand, some of it falling in thick stripes over the crimson ropes holding him down. 

Bucky groans and feels his own cock twitch hard, aching for touch, but right now that hardly matters at all because Tony is still coming, twitching and shaking and whining at the stimulation. 

Bucky switches to massaging his balls with one hand while stroking Tony’s cock slowly, watching the euphoria on Tony’s face as he sobs and spills some more. The sound of Tony’s moans has him _floating_ , pride and desire filling him up till he’s warm like he’s got a mini sun in his chest. 

Eventually he slows and eases Tony through the last of it, letting his tired cock slip out of his hand to lay wetly against his hip. Bucky hurries to wipe his hands on the towel at his knee before turning and scooping out ice into the waiting bowl, and then pours out the still steaming water from the carafe. 

He tests it and adds more ice before he’s satisfied with the temperature. 

“Okay baby, I’m gonna wipe you off now, okay? It’s gonna be warm, it shouldn’t be too hot,” he murmurs to Tony, rubbing his thigh gently. Tony’s still shaking, but manages a weak nod, eyes still closed as he moans faintly. 

Bucky squeezes out the hand towel and then uses it to wipe off Tony’s face first, pride and satisfaction filling him when Tony moans and leans into it. He wipes Tony’s brow gently, down the arch of his nose and then over his beautiful mouth before wiping each cheek gently. 

Tony is limp in the ropes, breathing heavily, eyes closed in exhaustion, but there’s a tiny, happy smile on his lips and it makes Bucky’s dom instincts sing at the sight of his sub so deeply pleased. 

He sets aside the cloth and cups Tony’s neck, squeezing gently, smiling softly when Tony sighs and shivers. “Ok baby, time to get you outta those ropes and cleaned off,” he murmurs, smiling when Tony nods and opens his eyes to smile at him tiredly. 

His fingers pluck at the knots, the unwinding going faster than the tying. The steady movements and methodical routine of it helps steady him, grounding him slowly from that high flying place he had been in while he had been edging Tony. 

He has Tony lay his arms out on the rests of the chair before he slips to his knees and unbinds Tony’s legs. Winding up the rope and tossing it aside for later, he rubs gently up and down Tony’s legs, massaging out any lingering tightness. 

Grabbing the unused cloth, he wrings it out and then leans up, gently wiping down Tony’s neck and arms and torso before going back and getting the cloth warm and wet again. 

“I know, shh it’s ok,” he whispers when Tony whines at the stimulation to his cock, eyes fluttering and hips squirming. Bucky is gentle and keeps his touch light, cleaning off his balls too before he re-wets the cloth and lays it on his own chair for the moment. 

“C’mere baby, lemme help you up,” he murmurs, using his shoulder under Tony’s arm to lever him to his feet, smiling when he sees how Tony’s legs are shaking. 

He’s fast with the cloth, wiping down Tony’s legs and then back between them, getting any lube or cum that might have gotten on his skin. He tosses it aside and reaches for Tony’s briefs before swiftly maneuvering them on and then effortlessly sweeps Tony into his arms and cradles him against his chest. 

Tony is limp and quiet, a soft, happy smile on his face as he tucks his head under Bucky’s chin, and that more than anything else tells Bucky he did _good_. 

He carries Tony to the bed on autopilot and sits on the edge, taking a moment to kick off his boots and work the sheets down before he lays down with Tony atop him, drawing the heavy covers up to Tony’s shoulders. He rubs a hand over the other man’s back and smiles when he sees Tony’s eyes are just barely slanted open. 

“Heya darlin, just rest, okay?” he murmurs, already feeling his own eyes growing heavy. 

“Yes sir,” Tony whispers, smiling so sweetly at Bucky it makes his heart ache. 

His eyes fall closed and he slips into a doze with the warm comforting weight of Tony’s body pressed to his. 

* * *

Bucky wakes with a warm heavy weight on his chest and the scent of amber and mahogany in his nose. He recognizes it as Tony’s cologne and smiles, hand shifting where it’s resting between Tony’s shoulder blades, fingers skimming down his spine slowly.

When he opens his eyes a few minutes later, he finds Tony watching him, arms crossed and tucked under his chin where he’s laying on Bucky’s chest. 

“Hey baby,” he murmurs, voice low and raspy from sleep. He lifts his free hand and pushes his fingers through Tony’s hair, smiling when the other man’s eyes close and a happy hum comes from his throat. 

“Sleep okay?” he asks softly, fingers rubbing gently into Tony’s scalp. 

Tony nods minutely, humming, a blissful smile on his lips that makes Bucky chuckle quietly. “That’s good darlin. You’re so sweet and soft, huh? Could spend all night scratchin’ your head like a kitten,” he muses, grinning when Tony makes an indignant noise and cracks an eye open to glare at him. 

“ _What_ ,” he drawls out, “you’re beautiful baby, a sweet little kitten,” he teases, wincing when Tony pinches his side, laughing as the other man rolls his eyes and hides his face in his arms. 

“M’not a cat,” Tony murmurs, though he doesn’t sound annoyed by Bucky’s teasing. 

“I know darlin, I’m just foolin’” he replies, scratching his nails gently against Tony’s scalp. He can feel it when Tony shudders a little and does it again. “How you feelin baby?” he asks quietly, “you up?”

Tony hums and makes a noncommittal sound, “Kinda, kinda not,” he replies, “sir,” he tacks on, “sorry.” 

Bucky shakes his head and rubs Tony’s back soothingly, “It’s fine darlin, I don’t mind you forgetting sometimes. Nothin to worry about.”

Tony shifts and stares at him, dark eyes curious and cautious, and Bucky suddenly wonders if someone in the past has punished Tony for forgetting a title. He resolves never to do so—not that he would have anyway; he’s never really given a shit about titles, especially not when a sub is deep in subspace and trying to focus on multiple points of sensory input while remembering all the rules. 

He likes to keep his rules simple and easy to follow; he doesn’t like setting subs up for failure—he thinks that doms who make complicated rules and routines just to force their sub to fail so they can be punished are assholes and undeserving of their sub’s submission. 

Tony doesn’t say anything to his declaration, just nods and then tilts his head to nudge it against Bucky’s fingers, silently demanding more petting. Bucky laughs, chest rising and falling and carrying Tony with it. “Not a kitten huh?” he teases, scratching his fingers through Tony’s hair and down to the nape of his neck. 

Tony makes a soft noise and pinches him again, harder this time. 

“Oh kitty has claws, huh?” 

Another pinch, and baleful glare through slitted eyes has Bucky laughing and rubbing a soothing hand up and down his back. He lets his eyes fall shut, sinking into the warmth that cocoons them, a deep sense of contentment filling him. 

Bucky’s fingers trail slowly up and down Tony’s spine, feeling each notch and ridge, dancing over his ribs, the rough bumps of scar tissue on his side catching his attention for a moment before he goes back to slow soothing strokes up and down Tony’s back. 

Disentangling his fingers from Tony’s hair, he checks his watch and sighs when he sees it’s well past 9pm. If he didn’t have to work tomorrow morning he’d let them go back to sleep and just stay here, but some part of him knows that’s probably too much too soon. 

Still, the prolonged contact has done wonders for his withdrawal and he hopes it will for Tony too. 

Gently, he squeezes Tony’s shoulder and smiles when the other man looks up at him, sleepy eyed and soft. “Time for debrief baby,” he murmurs, “c’mere and lay beside me,” he encourages, moving to sit back against the plush headboard of the bed. 

Tony wiggles and moves, the drag of his body against Bucky’s reminding him that he never got off. He doesn’t actually mind at all though—it had been far more satisfying to take care of Tony and watch him give in to the pleasure of denial and delay before rushing headlong into orgasm. 

Tony settles beside him, resting on his right hip, fingers playing with the fabric of the sheet, chewing his lip like he’s nervous. 

Bucky reaches out and skims a hand over Tony’s hip, thumb caressing the sharp jut of bone soothingly, smiling when Tony meets his gaze. “Hey baby,” he whispers, loving the way Tony blushes and turns his head to duck his chin. “Tell me, did you enjoy that?” he asks, pressing his thumb into Tony’s hip gently. 

Tony nods and lifts his gaze to meet Bucky’s. “I did,” he answers honestly, sounding vaguely surprised. “It was...intense,” he murmurs, brow furrowing in thought. “I-I’ve never, um, experienced anything like that before.”

“What was your favorite part?” Bucky asks curiously, thumb keeping up the same soothing circles on Tony’s hip. 

Tony hums thoughtfully and scratches at the sheets with his fingernails before smiling and looking embarrassed, “I uh, I liked how it felt _not_ to come,” he admits, “and the um, being held so tight by the ropes and just... being overwhelmed with it, shaking and h-helpless.” He closes his eyes and Bucky watches in awe as his fingers rise to touch the marks in his skin. 

“It felt... _safe,”_ Tony whispers, voice throaty and low, and when his eyes open Bucky is unsurprised to see his pupils widening. 

“Good, that’s so good baby,” he whispers back hoarsely. “Anything you didn’t like?” 

Tony shakes his head immediately and then pauses, a look of curiosity on his face, “I uh, did you come?” he asks softly, cheeks flushing as he looks sideways at Bucky through his lashes. “I don’t remember you coming, so I uh, just want to make sure you enjoyed it, I guess?” 

Bucky smiles and lifts his hand from Tony’s hip to cup his cheek, thumb stroking his cheekbone now, “Don't you worry about me darlin, I _loved_ what we did,” he assures Tony firmly. 

Tony frowns, “But you didn’t come,” he insists, “I should—” he breaks off and slides a hand over to Bucky, his intent clear as he reaches for Bucky’s belt, and it damn near breaks Bucky’s heart that he thinks it’s _required_ of him to get Bucky off no matter what. 

“Hey, no, darlin, hold up,” he murmurs, snaring Tony’s fingers with his. He lifts them and kisses the knuckles sweetly, “You’re so sweet to want that for me, but I don’t need it and tonight I don’t really want it.”

If anything, Tony looks more confused. “You... _don’t_ want to come?” he murmurs, brow furrowing. 

Bucky nods and brushes another kiss against his knuckles, “I’m, well I _guess_ they call it a service top these days, but really for me it just means that I like talking with you and figuring out what it is you want and need and then doing those things for you. It brings me pleasure to do the things you like and to see you happy.” 

Tony’s brows rise sharply at that, surprise and curiosity on his face. “So, you don’t mind not coming?” he asks probingly, sounding dubious. 

Bucky chuckles and shakes his head, “Not really. Sometimes it matters more than others. Tonight was all about making you feel good and getting you off after I got to edge you.” 

Tony hums thoughtfully and nods, dark eyes sharp when he looks back up at Bucky. “So, what do you want to do next time?” he asks, taking Bucky by surprise. 

Bucky thinks about it for a few moments, filtering through the various plans he’d come up with based on how this night went and then smirks, recalling his thoughts from earlier. He brushes his lips against Tony’s knuckles and then sets them aside, reaching for Tony’s hip again to squeeze it gently. 

“I was thinking, have you ever been rimmed before?” he asks nonchalantly, smirking sharply when Tony’s eyes go wide and he shakes his head, lips parting softly, pink tongue flicking out to wet them. 

“I—one time in college, but we were both pretty drunk and I don’t really... remember it being all that good,” Tony admits, shrugging a shoulder.

Bucky shifts his hand at Tony’s hip to brush his fingers against the clothed skin of Tony’s ass, grin sharp and hot when Tony inhales raggedly. “Well, I was thinking that I could try that for you, see if I can make you come that way,” he murmurs. 

Tony swallows hard and nods weakly, “I, I don’t know if I _can,_ but I guess, if it’s what you want to do, then sure,” he agrees. 

Bucky lifts a brow, “Do _you_ want to try it?” he prods, “if you’re not interested, that’s fine.”

“I...am,” Tony says haltingly, looking cautious, “I just, I don’t know what to expect,” he admits. 

Bucky smirks and slides his hand down to squeeze Tony’s ass quickly before he releases it and grabs his hand. He brings Tony’s fingers up to his beard and rubs them against the rough hair, opening his mouth to breathe wetly against the skin, watching as Tony’s pupils dilate and his breathing catches. 

He presses open mouthed kisses to the gently abraded skin and licks delicately at it before rubbing it against his beard once more, relishing in the way Tony is blushing and staring intently at him. His eyes are dark and hot and Bucky bites back the urge to kiss him, swallowing it down for another time. 

“Feels like that, except, well, I’ll be eating you out so it’ll be better,” he murmurs, grinning as Tony flushes crimson and ducks his head. 

“Right, uh, good, that’s, that’s good,” Tony stutters. He clears his throat and lifts his gaze to meet Bucky’s, “Should I do any kind of uh, tidying up?” he asks hesitantly. 

Bucky’s brows furrow in confusion, because he’s not really sure _what_ Tony is asking here. “I...no? I’ll clean up the room before we go?” he says questioningly. 

At this, Tony laughs, head falling back in a delightful display of unconscious delight before he turns his gaze back to Bucky and smirks, “No, I mean, should I get a wax and a bleaching?” 

_A_ **_bleaching_** _??_

“Darlin, I’m pretty sure I don’t wanna know, but what the _hell_ would you be _bleaching_?” he asks, confusion growing when Tony just laughs harder. 

“Ahhh see now _that’s_ how I know you aren’t a hipster,” Tony teases, “because if you _were_ you’d have your balls and taint waxed and your asshole bleached.” 

Bucky gapes at him for a long moment and then shakes his head slowly, “Kids these days,” he says winking at Tony, grinning when the other man laughs. “Jesus, _no_ , please don’t do that to yourself, not unless it’s something _you_ enjoy,” he tells Tony firmly. 

Tony shrugs, “It’s been a long time, but I don’t mind waxing. It’ll make everything more sensitive, I-I bet that’ll be good.”

Bucky nods slowly, “Sure, yea, if that’s what you want darlin.”

Tony grins and then looks surprised when his stomach growls loudly. Bucky releases him and waves a hand for him to stay as he rolls out of bed and heads over to the room service tray, lifting the lid on the meal he’d ordered before they started. 

It’s cold now so he pops the plate into the microwave and heats it before setting it on the tray provided and pouring out a glass of water. He carries it over to Tony and proudly sets it on his lap. “I hope it’s okay,” he murmurs as Tony stares in disbelief at the steak dinner. “I ordered it rare so that when I reheated it, it would wind up medium rare.”

Tony cuts into the steak and then grins, shaking his head as he shows a perfectly medium rare cut to Bucky. “This is...wow, thank you sir,” Tony murmurs, shooting him a shy smile. 

Bucky nods eagerly and slides back into bed, fingers lightning fast to steal a French fry off the plate, winking when Tony makes a sound of annoyance that’s all bluster because seconds later he’s offering Bucky a bite of steak from his fork. 

Bucky hesitates for a second and then leans in and bites it delicately, gaze locking with Tony’s as he pulls back and chews. Tony’s cheeks are pink and Bucky lifts a brow, giving the plate a silent but pointed look. 

Ducking his chin, Tony dives back in and eats with gusto, making Bucky wonder just how long it’s been since he ate a good meal. To his pleasant surprise, Tony keeps offering him bites of food from his fork, smiling crookedly, like he’s pleased Bucky is accepting it. 

It’s quiet between them, but not awkward or stilted and Bucky can hear that it’s raining again. He shoots Tony a quick glance and then gets up and goes to the French doors that lead to the balcony, peeling off his socks before he steps out and inhales the cool, wet, summer air. 

Up here it’s quiet—the rush of humanity below is muted by the distance and rain. 

He turns his face up to the sky and closes his eyes, exhaling slowly as drops of rain fall against his skin. He hears Tony moving around in the room and then feels his presence next to him on the balcony. Opening his eyes, he turns and smiles softly, “Sorry, didn’t mean to abandon you, I just like the rain,” he explains shyly. 

Tony nods and looks out at the overcast city, at the way the clouds are low and heavy and dark, rain falling steadily on the metropolis below. 

“I like the way it smells after,” Tony tells him, sleeves of his shirt sliding up just a little to reveal the indents in his skin as he reaches out for the railing, “It never lasts very long, especially in the middle of the city, but it’s nice. Like everything is reborn. And I don’t need to tell you, the city very rarely smells _nice.”_

“Petrichor,” Bucky replies. 

“Bless you,” Tony jokes, grinning when Bucky laughs softly. 

“Petrichor,” Bucky murmurs, “the smell of the earth after the rain,” he explains when Tony lifts a questioning brow. The other man nods, looking thoughtful, fingers tapping on the wrought iron of the balcony. 

“Sometimes I wish I could leave the city,” Bucky finds himself telling Tony. He smiles wryly at Tony’s look of surprise, “yea, I know, a Brooklyn boy lookin to leave home?” He scoffs and shakes his head, “Only problem is, it hasn’t been home in seventy some years. Now it’s just a place I live.”

Tony nods slowly, “I used to live in Malibu,” he tells Bucky, “it was quiet and on the beach and everyone left me alone.”

“Sounds nice.”

Tony hums and nods, “It was, especially during a storm. Sometimes I couldn’t see further than a couple thousand yards from the window and it was kind of like... being in the middle of nowhere.”

They stare out at the rain together in companionable silence, shoulders touching. Bucky shifts and his fingers brush Tony’s, swift and delicate and he’s filled with a sudden yearning to take Tony’s hand and draw him in for a kiss. 

Swallowing hard, he forces himself to stay still. 

Glancing over at Tony, he studies the way his face is relaxed and open, the lines around his eyes and the circles under them less prominent than they were just a few hours ago.

He recalls the sweet smile on Tony’s face after their scene and how readily he’d cuddled up to Bucky and while he still carries a knot of worry in his chest that he’s somehow going to fuck this up and hurt Tony—he thinks maybe this time he did a good job. 

He wants to ask but he’s... _scared._ God it scares him how much he wants Tony—he hasn’t felt like this...ever, maybe. 

But he wants to know that he’s not fucking this up, so he gathers up his courage and focuses on not crushing the iron railing under his hand when he asks, “Tony, did you, I mean...was tonight ok? I, I just want to be sure I did ok?” 

He cringes at how weak he sounds and lets a little of the Asset fill his spine, forcing himself to stand up a little straighter and meet Tony’s eyes when he looks at Bucky in surprise. 

Tony looks at him searchingly, seemingly confused, and then nods slowly, “Yea, Bucky, you did- tonight was _great,”_ he replies quietly, “You’re a great dom—I, I enjoy my time with you.” 

Bucky curses himself internally when he feels a flush rising to his cheeks, nodding as he glances away ( _coward_ a part of him hisses). “Good, that’s, that’s good,” he murmurs hoarsely, voice thick with unexpected emotion, eyes burning for a moment with unshed tears. 

They don’t say anything more, but Tony leans into his side, warm and strong against the chill of the rainy night air. Bucky takes it for the comfort it is and allows himself to slip a hand under Tony’s shirt, gently stroking the rope marks on his skin. 

He hears the bells of a church ringing in the distance and sighs softly when he realizes it’s almost eleven. 

“C’mon, don’t want you catching your death,” he murmurs, nudging Tony gently to turn back inside. 

_“Catching my death,_ you really do sound like a grandpa sometimes, you know that, right?” Tony teases, grinning when Bucky rolls his eyes and flips him off. 

He pulls on his socks after drying off his feet and relaces his boots while Tony putters around the room, picking up the towels and replacing the rope in Bucky’s duffle. 

Rolling his eyes, Bucky steps over and cuts off Tony’s progress, taking the bottle of lube from him with a grin. “Darlin, I said _I’d_ clean up,” he murmurs. 

“Yea I know I just... thought I’d help,” Tony says, sounding uncertain, “I want to, you know, make myself useful.”

Brows rising, Bucky tosses the lube into his duffle without looking, grinning at the way Tony’s eyes go wide when it lands neatly in the bag. 

“Darlin?” he murmurs, drawing Tony’s gaze back, “you don’t have to be _useful_ —you’re a _person_ not a _tool_ , and if you don’t clean up it doesn’t mean you’re _useless_.” He studies Tony’s face and the uncertainty there and then sighs, smiling faintly, “Tony, I enjoy being with you because you’re funny and sweet and you make me laugh. You don’t have to be anything other than yourself around me—you don’t need to do things to prove your worth or usefulness. I _already like you,”_ he tells him intently, gaze steady into Tony’s shocked brown eyes. 

He’s apparently left Tony speechless because the other man just _stares_ at him like he’s spoken gibberish. Tony’s throat works hard and his eyes are glassy like he wants to cry and _fuck_ Bucky didn’t mean to upset him. 

Suddenly he’s got an armful of Tony and he stares in shock down at the man as he hugs Bucky so tight it almost makes his ribs hurt. Slowly, he wraps his arms around Tony and squeezes him back. 

“Thank you,” Tony whispers hoarsely, face buried in Bucky’s chest. 

He rubs Tony’s back and nods, his own throat thick with emotion. 

“Of course baby, of course.”

They’re both a little bright eyed and shy when they part, but Bucky finds that he feels good, despite the rush of emotion there at the end of their time together. 

He gathers up his supplies and walks with Tony to the elevators, the ride down quiet and comfortable. They stick close together till they have to part at the doors, and for a second they just stand there staring at each other before Bucky smiles and winks at Tony. 

“See you next time darlin,” he murmurs before sliding the hood on his jacket up and stepping out into the rain. 

When he glances back, Tony is still watching him, a curiously intent look on his face. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> saw this on Tumblr and I think it's a lovely idea--feel free to copy and paste into your own fics!!
> 
> Emoji Key for those who don't know what to say in the comments!
> 
> ❤ = you wish you could kudos again  
> 😭 = I got you right in the feels  
> 🔥 = this was so hot!  
> 🐰 = it’s so fluffy!


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter written by RiotFalling
> 
> [You can find me @riotwritesthings on Tumblr!](https://riotwritesthings.tumblr.com/)
> 
> [Join us in our tumblr group chat and get sneak peeks of new chapters, discuss meta and headcanons, and participate in easter egg hunts for spoilers!](https://www.tumblr.com/chat/0_JOa_w6Jki6xyaWadq4Ww/bound-to-you)

Tony spends his week counting down the days, bouncing between working himself up into a nervous wreck and trying to fight down what feels a lot like  _ excitement  _ growing in his chest. 

With each day that goes by it gets a little harder to ignore the paranoid whispering of his own mind, reminding him that it’s only a matter of time before this whole thing goes sideways somehow. Before the other shoe drops or Tony screws everything up in some other spectacular fashion. 

Because he’s definitely never had a dom like Bucky, and he still can’t figure what Bucky actually  _ wants  _ from him.

He’s usually pretty good at figuring out what’s expected from him, whether or not he actually _follows_ those expectations is a totally different matter. But with Bucky, he has _no idea_ and if Tony lets himself think about it too hard he ends up just pacing around his workshop instead of working on any of the million things he promised he’d get done. Because letting himself actually _believe_ that all Bucky wants is to _take care of him_ seems... entirely too easy.

For Tony’s  _ entire life,  _ no part of being a sub has ever been  _ easy. _

And then there are the other times, like when Tony is staring down a line of code and he catches himself idly running his fingers over his ribs even though the marks from the rope have long since faded, or when he’s trying to fall asleep and he suddenly remembers in excruciating clarity the way Bucky’s warm voice had sounded calling him  _ perfect  _ and  _ sweet. _ The mornings he wakes up panting with a heated churn of arousal in his gut. All the half-remembered dreams about Bucky’s gaze heavy on his skin, the way his eyes had gone dark as he’d watched Tony squirm and the strong, sure feeling of his hands as he’d tied Tony up. 

Possibly most concerning, there’s the moment when he pulls the engine out of the ‘36 Jaguar and he’s struck by the insane urge to text Bucky about it. He’s halfway through typing out a message about the tragedy of a beautiful engine that hasn’t been properly maintained when he catches himself, and he deletes the entire message with a frustrated groan.

Every time Tony finds himself looking forward to Friday it brings him right back around to his incredibly valid and not at all anxiety-induced doubts, going over everything Bucky had said again and again in the hopes of finding even a  _ hint  _ of what is actually expected of him. Trying to figure out what the trap is going to look like when it snaps shut and shoving down the stupid budding hope that there  _ isn’t  _ one. 

Of course, thinking about the things Bucky had said just leads to Tony thinking about the  _ way  _ he’d said them, voice low and gaze heated as he’d talked about wanting to  _ tie him to a chair and edge him,  _ calling him  _ gorgeous  _ and telling him he did  _ good.  _

Which brings him back to wondering what the  _ hell  _ Bucky is getting out of this, what the hell  _ he’s  _ supposed to do, overthinking every second of their last scene while anxiety and arousal swirl together in a complicated knot in his stomach.

He hasn’t been this perpetually confused and horny since he was a teenager, and it’s kind of exhausting. 

At least he actually manages to get to the hotel early this time. Possibly  _ too _ early, because even after he lets himself pace the entire suite and then goes poking through all the cabinets and drawers for things left by previous guests, he still has  _ several  _ more hours to wait. 

Tony drops down onto the couch in the main room with an annoyed huff, although he’s not sure if he’s annoyed with himself for being so early, or for being so nervous in the first place, or for the low thrum of excitement he can feel building underneath everything else. 

Reading through the pamphlet about a dog show from three years ago that he found in the back of the nightstand isn’t distracting for very long, so he drops the five loose buttons he found scattered throughout the rooms onto the coffee table and arranges them by size. And then color. And then by what kind of clothing he thinks they used to belong to.

He makes another couple rounds of the entire penthouse, then pulls his phone out of his pocket and sprawls out across the couch again. He might as well answer some emails, hopefully that’ll be just boring and frustrating enough to distract him from the buzzing under his skin.

Tony ends up having to blink tiredly at his screen more than once, rubbing at his eyes and debating whether ordering a giant thing of coffee will actually help, or just turn the low simmer of nerves in his chest into full blown twitchyness. He ends up deciding against it, lays his phone flat on his chest for a minute so he can scrub both hands over his face.

He  _ needs  _ this, he reminds himself firmly, they  _ both  _ do, he can feel the pressure of his perpetual headache threatening to return and he knows Bucky probably feels about the same. Tony just isn’t sure what to do with the undeniable fact that he  _ wants  _ this, too. He wants Bucky’s hands on him, wants that warm lazy place Bucky was so easily able to bring him to before, where he doesn’t have to  _ think,  _ where all his worries can’t reach him. Even if it’s just for a little while. He just wants to  _ relax. _

He wakes up when he rolls off the couch and lands  _ hard,  _ barely avoiding bashing his head against the coffee table.

“Oww,  _ shit,”  _ he groans, only dimly aware that there’s someone else in the room through the haze of sleep still hanging over him. He rubs at his dry eyes even as he flails his way upright, trying to drag together the scraps of his dignity, and then finally glaring as he finally puts together where he is, and more importantly that it's  _ Bucky  _ standing over him.  _ Laughing. _

Tony glares harder, and fights down the part of him trying to notice that wow, Bucky really does have a great laugh. Especially when he laughs  _ like this,  _ his entire body shaking with the force of it and eyes shining, and it’s really not a bad way to wake up. Even if he  _ is  _ laughing at Tony’s less-than-graceful meeting with the floor.

“Oh god, darlin, I’m sorry,” Bucky says, but if anything he’s just laughing  _ harder,  _ and Tony is officially pouting, he has to resist the urge to cross his arms and everything as he watches Bucky try to get himself under control. “You okay?” He finally asks, right hand outstretched in an obvious offer to help Tony up.

Tony lightly swats his hand away before he can think better of it, but all Bucky does is laugh again, so Tony pouts harder in an attempt to hide the relief running through him. He pushes himself to his feet and starts brushing himself off with exaggerated motions as he huffs “I’m  _ fine. _ No thanks to you and your—“ Tony pauses to flail one hand at Bucky, searching for words, and unfortunately can’t come up with anything better than— “super spy sneakiness.” 

It’s not Tony’s fault, he  _ just  _ woke up from a nap he definitely did not intend to take, and most of his brain that’s come online is focused on trying  _ not  _ to let himself focus on the fact that Bucky looks  _ really good. _ The vest he’s wearing makes his shoulders look extra wide, his chest extra thick, and the dark jeans are doing  _ amazing  _ things for his thighs. Tony is probably lucky his first reaction wasn’t to start drooling, so he’s just happy he managed to find words at all.

“Right, well, you took a pretty good tumble there darlin,” Bucky says, rubbing at his mouth with one hand and completely failing to hide his smile, “Maybe I should check out that pretty ass of yours and make sure it’s ok?” 

Bucky’s tone is playful, grin gone just a little suggestive, and why,  _ why  _ does he have to be so stupidly attractive? Why did Tony have to  _ notice?  _ He spends plenty of time around gorgeous people, he’s supposed to be immune, and yet all he can do is sputter uselessly as he feels heat flood his face. 

“Can I have a hug darlin?” Bucky asks, expression softening even though his steel blue eyes are still shining with amusement and  _ so warm,  _ “Or is your pride too bruised?” 

Tony rolls his eyes with an annoyed huff that is absolutely just for show, already stepping forward and probably doing a terrible job hiding his excitement because  _ oh god  _ he’s been looking forward to this stupid hug  _ so much.  _ He can’t even bring himself to care if he looks over eager as he wraps both arms tightly around Bucky’s waist and buries his face in Bucky’s chest, because he  _ is.  _ Tony doesn’t fight the urge to let himself melt into it, just drags in a deep breath of Bucky’s earthy cologne and lets the tension bleed out of him as he leans a little heavier into Bucky’s chest with a quiet sigh.

“Long week?” Bucky asks quietly, wide palm running up and down Tony’s back in surprisingly soothing strokes, his face tucked down and Tony strongly suspects Bucky is nuzzling into his hair.

When Tony nods his forehead digs into Bucky’s collarbone a little awkwardly, but he doesn’t pull away. Tony has to bite his lip so he won’t just start rambling about the unending frustration of the stockholders meeting and the assessing looks Pepper keeps shooting him when she thinks he’s not paying attention, about all the projects he’d tried to work on with barely anything to show for it because he couldn’t stop thinking about  _ someone.  _ All things Bucky definitely doesn’t care about, except maybe he’d like to know that last bit, but Tony figures he shouldn’t put  _ all  _ his cards on the table. It's never been his style anyways.

Bucky doesn’t ask for any clarification though, just hugs him a little tighter and quietly says “Yea, me too.” Tony finds himself automatically squeezing Bucky back a little tighter in return, fingers twitching where they have a death grip on Bucky’s vest when Bucky adds “Been looking forward to this all week, been just about the  _ only _ good thing that’s kept me going.”

Tony barely manages to swallow down a surprised noise at that, can’t at all help the way he leans back slightly and tips his chin up to get a look at Bucky’s face, looking for any sign of a lie, or that Bucky is just telling him what he so obviously wants to hear. There’s nothing though, Bucky’s face is surprisingly open and entirely honest, and Tony’s heart gives a stupid little lurch. 

“Really?” He can’t help blurting and instantly feels _ weak  _ but it just might be worth it for the way Bucky’s hand comes up to cup his cheek. 

“Yea darlin, seeing you is the best part of my week,” Bucky says, his cheeks a little pink and he smiles as he watches Tony’s face no doubt show his progression through confusion and shock to finally settle on a weird sort of pride.

He knows, rationally, that it's just because why  _ wouldn’t  _ Bucky look forward to something that helps get rid of the horrible symptoms of withdrawal, and there’s no reason Tony should feel  _ special.  _ He does, though, emotion swelling warm in his chest and it’s probably because Tony’s own reasons for looking forward to today have a lot less to do with withdrawal and a lot more to do with  _ Bucky. _

“Well…” Tony says, voice a little weak and cheeks heating further as he tries desperately to think of anything to say that’s not  _ ‘me too’,  _ and he finally ends up just stuttering out “That’s, that’s good.”

Bucky takes a step back and Tony reluctantly lets his arms fall back to his side, resisting the urge to rock back on his heels as Bucky looks him over and asks “You feeling ok for the scene today? If you’re too tired or just not in the right mood, we can reschedule, it’ll be fine.”

Tony is already shaking his head before Bucky is even halfway through the sentence, stomach dropping a little because he doesn’t  _ want  _ to reschedule. “No I’m good,” he says quickly, hands twitching with the urge to reach out and grab onto Bucky again, “Just, had a lot of work keeping me up lately. I’ll be fine.”

The slight frown that grows on Bucky’s face isn’t super encouraging, but before Tony can start rambling out more assurances Bucky’s giant hand slides around the back of his neck. It takes barely any pressure for Bucky to tip his chin up so he can study Tony’s face intently, and Tony can’t even  _ think  _ about trying to fight it when he’s busy trying to remember to  _ breathe.  _

“You’re sure?” Bucky asks, quirking an eyebrow and his voice is soft, not a hint of command in it. It’s not an order, it’s a genuine question, like it  _ matters,  _ his serious expression just inches from Tony’s own face and that more than anything has a hard shiver running down Tony’s spine.

Tony has to swallow thickly before he can speak, and it’s really not helping that Bucky is standing  _ so close,  _ close enough that Tony could so easily lean up that little bit and kiss him, if he wanted to. It’s distracting. Especially because Tony really kind of  _ does,  _ even that one hand cupping the back of his neck is enough to make him feel safe, and  _ surrounded,  _ his head nearly spinning as arousal swells hot though his entire body.

“Y-yeah I’m sure,” Tony finally manages, soft and a little breathless and he has to pause to lick his lips, mouth dry as he admits “I, I want to do this.” Try as he might, Tony can’t stop his gaze from flicking down the perfect bow of Bucky’s lips, and he swallows hard again when Bucky grins a little wider.

“Good,” is all Bucky says, but his voice is a low purr that has another shiver running down Tony’s spine, “That’s good. Why don’t you go in the other room and start stripping, I’ll be right behind you.”

Tony gasps softly, as much at the words as the fact that Bucky abruptly releases him again, leaving him feeling slightly off balance. He nods almost absently because right, time to get naked, that is what’s happening now. That is the plan, all Tony needs to do is stick to the plan and everything will be fine, and hopefully he’ll be able to avoid acknowledging the pit of worry growing in his chest. Which is not at all diminishing the heated ball of  _ want  _ in his gut, and the combination is kind of making his stomach roll.

He only stumbles a little on his way to the bedroom, which is really the best Tony can hope for at this point, his heart racing in his chest and his entire body abuzz with nerves and anticipation. Tony comes to a stop by the foot of the bed again, chewing on his lip as he begins slowly shrugging out of his long sleeved shirt and folding it up nicely. He’s just pulling his undershirt over his head as well when Bucky follows him into the room, pushing the room service cart that Tony hadn’t really given much thought to when he first woke up, but is certainly wondering about  _ now. _

Bucky just leaves the cart beside the loveseat though, and Tony can only kick off his shoes and watch in bemusement as Bucky starts inspecting and rearranging the furniture. Tony is just about to pop the button on his jeans when Bucky glances up, catches him staring and responds with a grin and a wink, and Tony quickly drops his chin as his face heats again. 

He just needs to focus on kicking off his jeans, folding them up and getting them stacked up with the rest of his clothes at the end of the bed. He just needs to follow the plan.

Tony starts reaching for his briefs with shaking hands, but ends up wrapping his arms around himself instead.  _ Fuck, _ what is the plan again? Chair, ropes, edging, but what is  _ Tony _ supposed to do? He never did figure that out, and he’s really regretting not letting himself dwell on it before now. 

Their last scene was... nice.  _ Surprisingly  _ nice and a big part of Tony is worried he’s going to screw this up so badly it taints the memory of that day too. Last time was simple, so easy, Tony had managed to do well mostly because there really wasn’t much expected of him. Just sit there with his head down, mostly. 

As much as Tony tries to tell himself this time is really just more of the same, he still feels like he only has a vague idea of what he’s actually getting himself into. 

Subspace makes him  _ stupid.  _ He gets whiny and demanding, his usually reliable brain gone to lazy mush and he can  _ never _ remember all the rules.  _ Especially  _ when he’s all worked up. 

And Tony can’t shake the feeling that he doesn’t even  _ know  _ the rules of this game. 

He doesn’t realize he’s completely zoned out, lost in his own head, until Bucky says his name softly and Tony snaps back to himself, abruptly realizing that he’s just been staring at nothing and nervously gnawing on his lip for who knows how long now. He jerks his head around to look at Bucky again, arms tightening around himself even though he  _ knows  _ he should just hurry up and finish stripping already.

“Hey,” Bucky says gently and takes a couple slow, careful steps closer, like Tony is some kind of skittish animal. It might be insulting if it weren’t also incredibly fair, Tony  _ feels  _ a bit like a skittish animal. “What’s goin on in your head darlin?” Bucky asks as he comes to a stop a couple feet away, eyes intent as he studies Tony’s face.

Tony has to resist the urge to squirm under that heavy stare, because he  _ knows  _ he’s taking too long. He starts to uncross his arms and then just ends up hugging himself tighter instead, already feeling almost  _ painfully  _ vulnerable.

“Just...” Tony says with a small shrug and then trails off, because where does he even  _ start?  _

There’s about a million questions bouncing around in his brain, like what if last week was just a fluke? What if it  _ wasn’t,  _ but Tony manages to screw this up anyways, somehow? What if all this gentle sweetness is an elaborate plan to lull him into a false sense of security, what is Tony supposed to do  _ then,  _ because try as he might he can’t deny that it’s  _ working.  _ What if Tony isn’t  _ good enough? _

He’s pretty sure Bucky doesn’t actually want to be subjected to that avalanche of paranoia and insecurity, though. So Tony just drops his chin, curls a little tighter around himself, and mutters out a quiet “I don’t know.”

“You want to call it and go home?” Bucky suggests and his voice is gentle, but it still sends a sharp bolt of rejection through Tony’s chest, because damn, he must really look like a mess if Bucky wants to call the whole thing off. “That’s fine if you do,” Bucky continues, and it makes Tony feel a little better that at least the way his heart dropped doesn’t show on his face, “We don’t ever have to do something you don’t want to and aren’t comfortable with.”

That has all the air rushing out of Tony’s lungs on a hard sigh, relief swelling though him as he realizes that once again, Bucky is just being  _ considerate,  _ and it would be so easy to let himself get used to that. Dangerously easy.

“No...” Tony says quickly, because building anxiety or not he still  _ wants  _ this. He wants Bucky’s hands on him again,  _ more,  _ he wants to be  _ good,  _ and maybe Tony really never does learn. Because he’s perfectly willing to run the risk of this whole thing biting him in the ass if it means he can get what he wants. “I’m just, nervous, I guess?” he admits slowly and even that feels too honest, too open, but Bucky smiles softly and nods encouragingly.

“Me too darlin,” Bucky says, and when Tony doesn’t bother to hide his surprise Bucky quirks an amused eyebrow and teasingly asks “What? You think it’s easy seeing someone as handsome as you undressed and bare for me to touch?” 

Tony just hopes the startled breath he sucks in isn’t actually audible, blood rushing to his cheeks and heat flooding his chest again because he cannot get used to the way Bucky compliments him. Like he  _ really means it,  _ like for some reason he thinks Tony  _ needs  _ to hear it. All Tony can do is give another tiny shrug as his heart lurches again, and shit, maybe he  _ does  _ need to hear it.

Apparently Bucky agrees, because if anything his voice is even  _ more  _ earnest as he says “Tony baby, it’s been a long,  _ long _ time since I had the honor of having someone’s submission and I’ve  _ never _ been with someone as sweet and incredible as you.”

From anyone else it would sound cheesy, it would be way too over the top to be anywhere  _ close  _ to believable, but somehow Bucky makes it sound  _ so honest.  _ Like he really thinks Tony is  _ incredible,  _ and Tony fixes his gaze firmly on the toes of Bucky’s boots. He’s not sure he can stand to find out what Bucky’s face looks like as he says that, and he definitely doesn’t want Bucky to see  _ his  _ expression.

Tony actually feels a little guilty, like  _ he’s  _ the liar, because he is most assuredly  _ terrible.  _ He’s not quite sure how he managed to trick Bucky into thinking otherwise, but god Tony  _ wants  _ it to be true. Maybe,  _ maybe,  _ if he just tries  _ hard enough,  _ maybe he can pretend—

He’s distracted from his spiraling thoughts when Bucky holds out both his hands, palms up in an obvious offer that once again has zero demand behind it. Just waiting for Tony to make a decision, like it  _ matters.  _ Tony finds that he doesn’t even need to think about it, just reaches out and grabs onto Bucky’s hands like a lifeline. Bucky’s right hand is calloused, dotted with scars and it somehow makes him reassuringly  _ real,  _ the metal of his left hand smooth and a little cooler to the touch and Tony’s next deep breath is a little steadier.

“Flatterer,” he finally remembers to say, and his attempt at a joking tone kind of fails when his voice shakes a little. 

When Tony manages to drag his eyes up from their hands it’s to the sight of Bucky’s warm smile, and he can’t look away. All he can do is try to smile back, clinging tighter and figuring maybe he can stand to be a little more honest too. 

“It’s been- I mean it hasn’t been  _ decades  _ or anything, but...” Tony starts haltingly, feeling his face flush a little darker, “It’s been a long time since I’ve done this too.” He can’t help dropping his eyes again, instead biting his lip and watching his own fingers tap nervously against Bucky’s wrist. It’s probably a little too early to say that Bucky is the best dom he’s ever had, even though so far he definitely  _ is,  _ and in the end all Tony can manage is “And you- it’s just... different.”

Bucky’s hands slide up his forearms with a steady, reassuring pressure, grounding him a little more. “We’ll take it one step at a time darlin,” Bucky says softly, “And if we need to slow down or stop, we’ll do that.”

Tony’s breath catches abruptly in his chest at the use of the word  _ ‘we’,  _ like they’re in this  _ together,  _ and for a second that wave of gratitude that washes over him is nearly overwhelming. It’s followed quickly by a fresh wave of fear because  _ fuck  _ Tony does not deserve this. He’s not nearly a good enough sub for someone sweet and thoughtful like Bucky, he knows that, but he  _ wants.  _ He wants to  _ try. _

So Tony nods jerkily, selfishly falling into it when Bucky gives his elbow a little tug and asks for a hug, calls him  _ ‘darlin’  _ in that smooth drawl. He wraps both arms around Bucky’s waist, clings for all he’s worth as Bucky’s fingers stroke up and down his spine and highlight the fact that Tony is still shaking slightly.

It’s also an abrupt reminder that Tony is nearly naked, Bucky’s breath warm against his skin as he tucks his face down into the curve of Tony’s shoulder, and Tony shudders again even as he presses closer. He does his best to match his breathing to Bucky’s, letting his nerves slowly settle again as he does his best not to think about anything except the warmth of Bucky nearly surrounding him, the feel of his strong arms already so familiar and comforting.

Tony isn’t sure how long they stand there, but when he finally, slowly lets his hands fall away from Bucky’s back Tony feels a little less likely to get swept away by his own spiraling thoughts. His head is kind of swimming with the rich smell of Bucky’s cologne and he has a  _ plan.  _ He’s just going to do his best to be the kind of sub Bucky deserves and enjoy this for as long as he can, and he’s not going to let himself dwell on all the ways this could go horribly wrong.

It’s a pretty simple plan, and Tony’s still not sure he’ll actually be able to pull it off, but at least it’s a  _ plan. _

“Why don’t I show you how I’m gonna tie you up again,” Bucky says quietly, gently brushing a finger over Tony’s cheek, “And then you can get a few things ready for me and we’ll get started.” 

Tony nods, maybe a little too eagerly judging by Bucky’s smile, and steps in a little closer as he watches Bucky dig out his phone. Tony’s breath catches when Bucky turns the screen towards him to show the photo he has pulled up and  _ oh,  _ Tony can already imagine the way it’ll feel, the marks it’ll leave on his skin.

“This is the tethered Egyptian, it’ll keep your hands up and away, and leave you all open and vulnerable for me to play with,” Bucky says, his voice gone low and heated, and it has an answering heat spreading like wildfire through Tony’s veins as Bucky’s arm slides around his waist and pulls him in a little closer. “What do you think?” Bucky asks, teasingly light like he can’t feel the way Tony is shaking against him, breath speeding up as his blood rushes abruptly south.

“I—it’s, it uh looks good,” Tony manages, licking his lips again as he glances between Bucky’s face and the screen of his phone, resisting the urge to squirm in place at the image Bucky’s words create and the fresh bolt of  _ want  _ that it sends through Tony’s core.

“Good,” Bucky says, and his voice drops a little lower, into an  _ order  _ as he adds “Now, I want you to grab two towels from the bathroom and put one on the seat of your chair and the other under it so anything that spills or drips will be on there and not the fabric, got it?” Tony can only nod as another hard shudder runs through him, and Bucky grins knowingly before nudging him toward the bathroom and winking as he says “Go on then darlin.”

Tony stumbles his way towards the bathroom, legs like jelly and heart racing because he can  _ feel  _ Bucky watching him. He grabs the first two towels he sees and hurries back to the sitting area, nearly tripping over his feet when he glances over and spots Bucky rolling up his sleeves again, exposing his wide forearms. Tony quickly drags his attention back to what he’s doing, spreading the towels out as instructed and trying not to let himself dwell on the thought of things  _ spilling  _ and  _ dripping  _ and utterly failing, and he has to bite his lip when his cock gives a hard twitch under the thin covering of his briefs.

When he’s done Tony swallows thickly, drags his eyes away from the chair and over to where Bucky is arranging things on the room service cart. Tony’s eyes get caught for a second on the rope, anticipation twisting hot in his gut, and then he watches curiously as Bucky tosses a couple smaller towels into what looks a lot like a bowl of assorted oils.

Bucky glances up and catches him staring, just hovering awkwardly to the side, and all he does is smile warmly. “Alright darlin,” Bucky says, voice light again as he asks “Now, I need you to strip and stand still for me so I can tie you up, okay?” 

Tony nods, swallowing hard again as he reaches for his briefs again with shaking hands. Bucky raises one hand, leaves it hovering between them in a universal sign to  _ wait  _ and Tony freezes, heart stuttering in his chest as he makes an embarrassing confused noise.

“Do you want me to turn around?” Bucky offers, and before Tony can point out that he’s not sure how he expects to tie Tony up without  _ looking  _ at him when Bucky continues with “You can turn too and have your back to me when I get started on the ties.” 

And that... actually sounds nice, and Tony nods instantly even if he is still a little thrown. “I—yes sir,” he says a little breathlessly, the title falling from his lips without thought as he tries for a weak smile, “That, that would be good.”

Bucky wastes no time spinning around, putting his back to Tony and busying himself with the rope, and Tony sucks in a deep breath before turning as well. It’s a little easier, when he’s not facing Bucky and he knows Bucky isn’t watching, and his hands are still trembling a little but he finally manages to go through with shoving down his briefs and kicking them away slightly.

It takes a second for Tony to work up the breath to actually speak, hyper aware of the fact that he is  _ naked,  _ and it has been a  _ long time  _ since he was last naked around someone, much less gotten off with another person. Over a year at least, and it’s been even longer since he’s done so in subspace. He barely remembers what to expect, has mostly shoved those memories down where he won’t have to think about them.

“Uh, I’m ready,” Tony finally manages, voice rough, and balls his hands up at his sides to resist the urge to cover himself because that’s not the  _ point. _

He swears he can  _ feel  _ it when Bucky turns to face him, the heavy, heated weight of Bucky’s gaze moving down his back and over his ass. Tony twitches slightly as he hears Bucky stepping closer, stopping right behind him, and at the light brush of Bucky’s fingers over his shoulder blade a shiver works its way through Tony’s entire body.

“Hold still now darlin, I’ve got you,” Bucky says softly and Tony lets out a slow breath, only to gasp softly at the first touch of rope against his skin. 

Just like last time, with every new loop of rope wrapped around him Tony feels a little more tension melting out of him, his worries get a little quieter in favor of drinking in every brush of Bucky’s fingers against his skin. When Bucky instructs him to turn Tony doesn’t even hesitate, and it's only once he’s faced with Bucky’s encouraging smile that he remembers right,  _ naked. _

Bucky’s eyes don’t drift from what he’s doing though, just watches his own hands as he methodically ties and knots the rope around Tony’s torso. “Good job sweetheart,” Bucky says, his smile widening a little, “Now, arms up and cross ‘em over your chest, yup, just like that.”

Tony can’t help the small, proud grin that grows on his face at Bucky’s nod of approval, and the feeling only grows as Bucky binds his crossed arms, pinning them securely in place.

“Feel ok sweetheart?” Bucky asks, giving the ropes a little tug and watching Tony’s face intently, “should feel like a hug.”

“Yeah, it’s—“ Tony loses his breath for a second, because it  _ does.  _ It feels like being held, all the care and attention Bucky put into tying the ropes settling into his skin and warming him from the inside out. “Feels good,” Tony finally says with a smile that feels  _ real  _ even as his cheeks heat a little further.

“Good,” Bucky says as he finishes the last of the knots, his eyes back on what he’s doing, “Good, you’re doing beautifully Tony, you look so good all tied up like this.” Tony feels himself blush a little harder, dragging in a deep breath just to feel the pressure of the rope around him, and Bucky chuckles softly as he brushes his fingers over Tony’s cheek. “Okay darlin, time to sit down,” he says, pointing towards the towel covered chair. 

Tony nods as his stomach clenches up hard, and he can’t even tell if it’s nerves or arousal anymore. Probably both. Either way, it has Tony’s legs shaking slightly as he sinks down onto the edge of the chair, the fabric of the towel soft beneath him and reminding him that he is  _ naked,  _ fuck,  _ so vulnerable. _ He squeaks a little in surprised confusion as Bucky sinks to his knees between the two chairs, more rope in hand, and for a second Tony is struck with the urge to curl in defensively around himself.

“Feet flat on the floor and legs up against the chair,” Bucky orders, low and rumbling, and Tony’s gut gives another hard twist that is  _ definitely  _ arousal,  _ oh fuck. _

Tony has to swallow down a soft whine as he shifts to obey, muscles in his thighs twitching as he inches them apart and shifts back in his seat, until his calves are lined up with the legs of the chair and he has zero hope of hiding the fact that he’s already half-hard. It takes everything he has not to squirm as Bucky starts at his ankle and slowly works up, tying Tony to the leg of the chair with complicated little loops of rope topped off with a bow just above his knee. The passing brush of Bucky’s fingers against his thigh has Tony gasping softly, his cock throbbing.

Then Bucky moves on to his other leg, just as slow and meticulous, and Tony may not have thought this through well enough. 

He knows the concept of edging, even if he’s never really done it, per say, what Tony  _ doesn’t  _ know is how he’s supposed to  _ not  _ come when he’s already nearly breathless with want, when it’s been  _ so long.  _ When Tony has been thinking about this  _ all week  _ and he can’t possibly ignore how gorgeous Bucky is from this close, his eyes focused and intent, a couple strands of hair escaping his hair tie and hanging loose around his strong jaw.

Tony can’t tear his eyes away, arousal burning hot in his gut and spreading through his whole body as Bucky finishes the second bow and looks up to meet his stare.

“I’m gonna get my lube and then we’re gonna start, okay?” Bucky asks quietly, his sharp gaze equally focused on Tony’s face, “what’s your color?” 

_ Fuck,  _ Tony doesn’t know if he can  _ do  _ this, he’s already aching to be touched and they haven’t even  _ started.  _ The rope around his legs keeps them securely in place, digging into his skin just a little and knocking all the air out of him as Tony tries to wiggle against them. With his arms bound in front of him he can lean back in the chair at least, chewing on his lip nervously as he realizes that he doesn’t  _ care.  _

He doesn’t even care if he’s going to end up getting punished, he wants Bucky’s hands on him, wants to follow the plan for as long as he can manage. He wants to  _ try  _ to be good, just for the sake of being good, probably more genuinely than he ever has before in his life. 

So Tony nods jerkily, and then finally stops chewing on his lip so he can say “Green, sir.” Bucky doesn’t look convinced, raising one eyebrow at him, so Tony huffs out the barest hint of a laugh and says it again.

“Alright then,” Bucky says, patting his knee and Tony twitches again, biting down the desperate noise that’s already trying to grow in his chest. Bucky shifts to sit the wingback chair directly in front of him, bottle of lube in hand and close enough that their knees are  _ almost _ touching. Then Bucky fixes him with another warm, unfairly gorgeous smile, and asks “Ready sweetheart?” 

Tony nods, trying to swallow down his nerves and shifting in the hold of the ropes again. “Yes sir,” he manages in a rough voice, because he’s about as ready as he’s going to be,  _ too  _ ready, if anything, and before he can stop himself Tony is blurting “I— what happens if I can’t stop myself from coming?”

Maybe if he just  _ knows,  _ he can at least prepare for when he inevitably comes too early, like the overeager teenager he’s spent the whole week feeling like. And who knows, maybe if it’s bad enough the fear will help Tony keep himself under control.

“You mean do you get punished?” Bucky asks, and for a second Tony’s nerves spike high enough to drown out everything else, his stomach dropping as his chest clenches. But in the next second Bucky’s grin goes toothy and heated and he says “Well, that’s alright darlin, if you come, I’ll just keep making you come until you’re sorry.”

_ ”Oh,”  _ Tony gasps out, mind going completely blank under the fresh tidal wave of arousal that rushes through him, heat bursting to life in his gut like a wildfire and crawling up his spine, turning his brain to mush.

“So, unless you wanna be kept here and made to come over and over again till you’re sobbing and not enjoying it anymore, I suggest you make sure I know when you’re close,” Bucky adds, his smile going a little wider and eyes darkening as he watches Tony squirm, “got it darlin?” 

Tony is nodding before Bucky even finishes the question, heat racing through his veins and cock twitching again, filling a little further. Someone should tell Bucky that punishments aren’t supposed to be  _ tempting,  _ but Tony certainly isn’t going to be the one to do it, instead he just swallows hard and stutters out “Yes sir, g-green sir.”

It gets only a little easier to breathe when Bucky’s gaze drops again, and all Tony can do is watch as Bucky slowly works some lube between his fingers, drawing out the anticipation until Tony is shaking and trying not to whine impatiently. 

When Bucky’s fingers  _ finally  _ wrap around his cock it's somehow a surprise, even though Tony has been waiting for it for a  _ week  _ now, and he jumps slightly with a soft gasp. Bucky’s grip is slick with lube, perfectly firm and almost overwhelming when Tony is already wound tight enough to snap. It only gets more intense when Bucky starts to stroke him, slow,  _ so slow,  _ down to the base and then back up while all the air escapes Tony’s lungs in a soft noise. 

It feels like he’s  _ burning,  _ fire spreading beneath Tony’s skin as he  _ shakes  _ and his cock gives another hard throb. Bucky is still watching him, watching his own fingers move over Tony’s skin with dark eyes, then looking up and meeting Tony’s stunned gaze again.

“Christ baby, look at you,” Bucky says softly, like  _ he’s  _ the one who’s overwhelmed, the blue of his eyes nearly swallowed up by his blown out pupils, “you’re a fuckin  _ dream _ .” 

Tony’s eyes fall closed and the whimper building in his chest finally bursts out, tugging uselessly at the rope wound all around him as Bucky slowly begins stroking down his cock again. The ropes don’t budge, just hold his thighs spread and his arms wrapped around himself, open and vulnerable for whatever Bucky wants to do to him, as promised. Tony squeezes his eyes shut harder as Bucky starts stroking  _ painfully slowly  _ down his cock again, bites his lip so he won’t start blurting out desperate pleas, or something equally embarrassing.

“C’mon now baby, none of that,” Bucky says, and Tony’s eyes fly open again at the brush of Bucky’s metal thumb against his lip, gently pulling it free from between his teeth, “Lemme hear you darlin.”

Another low whine slips out of Tony as he squirms under Bucky’s heated stare, and the next time Bucky’s hand slides down his cock his grip is a little tighter. It forces an actual moan out of Tony, soft and breathy but undeniable and he  _ aches,  _ struggling to keep his eyes open under Bucky’s heavy gaze as he squirms against the ropes again. It’s  _ overwhelming,  _ caught between the knots Bucky wrapped so securely around him and the open  _ want  _ in Bucky’s eyes, surrounded, and Tony is  _ losing his mind. _

Bucky waits until he stills, panting harshly for breath, then strokes down his cock at the same torturous pace and starts the whole process over, leaves Tony moaning softly and shifting against the ropes all over again. “You sound so pretty when you moan for me baby,” Bucky says, his voice low and heated in a way that has static trying to take over Tony’s thoughts, “you’re the most goddamn gorgeous thing I’ve ever seen.” 

Tony shakes his head weakly even as another whine slips out of him, cheeks burning, but before he can argue Bucky’s thumb presses hard just below the head of his cock, grip tightening further. Tony loses all thought, his head falling back on a loud, shameless moan.

“ _ That’s it,  _ just let go baby, see how good it feels?” Bucky asks and this time all Tony can do is nod, thoughts going slow and hazy and  _ letting go _ sounds like excellent advice, just letting himself enjoy the burn of arousal that flares hotter with every pass of Bucky’s hand along his cock.

With a soft whine Tony braces his shoulders against the back of the chair so he can get even the slightest bit of leverage, rope digging slightly into his back and his legs as he rolls his hips up into Bucky’s grip with the tiny amount of movement he can actually achieve. 

“Oh look at  _ you _ darlin,” Bucky breathes out, voice dropping  _ lower  _ and dragging Tony down right along with it, “You look so pretty fucking yourself on my hand, bet you feel so good right now huh?” 

Tony moans and nods again, helpless to do anything else against the knot of pleasure already building hot and terrifying in his gut. “Please sir, please,” he pants out, still struggling to keep his eyes open under Bucky’s intent stare, unable to look away.

“Please what?” Bucky asks, and  _ fuck _ the smug, teasing tone of his voice just pushes Tony  _ higher, _ as does the way he laughs softly when Tony whines and shakes his head. “Ask for what you want darlin, use your words,” Bucky says encouragingly, still with that teasing grin, and Tony isn’t even sure if the sound that bursts out of him is a groan or a laugh.

He lets his head drop back against the chair with another loud whine, panting for breath and it doesn’t help, Bucky just strokes him a little faster and every time Tony’s chest expands against the hold of the rope his gut gives another little clench and he loses his breath all over again. 

Especially when he tips his chin down again, pries his eyes open, and finds Bucky smiling at him, warm and good naturedly teasing and a little awed. Tony’s heart lurches in time with the sharp stab of arousal that runs through him, and it's a couple long seconds before Tony gets his thoughts in order enough to stutter out “N-no point in a-asking if I’m not go-gonna come yet.” It’s mostly to remind himself, because Tony is  _ desperate  _ to come and he’s  _ not going to.  _ Not yet, not until  _ Bucky  _ decides, and that thought has another hard shudder running down Tony’s spine, his cock twitching in Bucky’s hand.

Tony surprises himself with the shaking laugh that follows the statement, returning Bucky’s smile helplessly even as his heart races, the beat of it almost deafening in his ears and Tony is barely aware of the fact that he’s sinking,  _ sinking.  _ All he knows is the mind-melting burn of pleasure spreading through him, Bucky’s low voice winding around him as surely and as tightly as the ropes.

“Aww well I like hearing you beg baby, you sound so sweet saying  _ please _ ,” Bucky teases and rubs his thumb just under the head of Tony’s cock again, his smile going toothy when Tony gasps and moans and jerks.

Bucky abruptly switches his focus to the head of Tony’s cock, circling his calloused, lube-slick palm over the sensitive skin with perfect,  _ blinding  _ pressure, and Tony might actually  _ die  _ like this. Writhing and twisting against the hold of the ropes as a near constant stream of moans spill out of him, and he’s not even sure if he’s trying to get away or trying to get  _ more,  _ all he knows is that he  _ wants. _

“There we go huh, that feels good doesn’t it baby?” Bucky asks, and when his hand slides down to wrap around the shaft of Tony cock again, returning to slow, tight strokes, Tony can finally drag in a deep breath. Even if it does immediately come rushing back out in a broken sound as he shakes his head, arching against the rope around his legs, trying to get back that sweetly sharp stimulation. “Whassamatter baby? You don’t like it?” Bucky croons and if anything  _ slows  _ the motion of his hand, “you don’t like me leaving your pretty cockhead alone?” 

Tony whines again, nodding and slumping back in his chair. His entire body shakes as he tries to arch up into the next painfully slow downward stroke of Bucky’s hand and it’s  _ not enough. _ Tony can feel the sweat collecting on his skin but it’s just a distant awareness, far less important than the tight hug of the rope and Bucky’s hand on him, the building fuzz in his brain. “ _ Please sir,”  _ Tony finally manages to gasp out, his eyes nearly falling closed again under the weight of Bucky’s gaze,  _ so dark,  _ almost hungry, and Tony  _ wants. _

“Oh  _ baby _ , you beg so nice,” Bucky groans and a proud flush washes over Tony, mixing with the burning pleasure that’s spreading out through his limbs and Tony is  _ floating _ on it.

He doesn’t even think to worry about it when Bucky’s other hand reaches towards his face, just whimpers breathlessly as Bucky traces one finger over his lip  _ so gently,  _ something so honest and warm in his gaze that it has Tony squirming again all on it’s own.

Tony can’t stop himself from swiping his tongue out, barely catching the smooth tip of Bucky’s finger and whining at the barely-there metallic taste. Bucky doesn’t pull away, so Tony leans in a little closer and does it again, a soft hum escaping him as he drags his tongue up the line of Bucky’s finger before sucking it into his mouth, watching with rapt attention as Bucky’s eyes go wide.

“Aw _ fuck _ baby,” Bucky groans, his grip on Tony’s cock tightening a little, “Wish this damn thing had better biofeedback, I wanna feel your pretty mouth around me.” 

Tony hums at that, finally lets his eyes fall closed so he can focus on swirling his tongue over Bucky’s finger, sucking a little harder because if Bucky can barely feel it, well he’ll just have to work a little harder. His breath catches and then escapes as a whine when Bucky’s firm grip on his cock begins to move faster, harder, the slick sound of it forcing a ragged moan out of Tony’s chest.

Bucky presses another finger between his lips and Tony eagerly lets his mouth fall open a little wider, pressing his tongue up against the smooth metal and the sound of Bucky’s low moan has Tony’s eyes fluttering open again. Bucky’s face is flushed, eyes wide and dark and fixed on Tony’s lips, driving him higher as Tony sucks a little harder, trying uselessly to arch up into Bucky’s hand and moaning out a soft sound of his own.

“That’s it darlin, suck on ‘em, get ‘em nice and wet,” Bucky encourages, voice rough in a way that settles low in Tony’s spine, has him making wet, desperate noises around Bucky’s fingers, “you’re doing so good baby, Christ,  _ so good.” _

The praise settles warm around him, flooding through him and Tony’s not even sure when he slid into subspace but he doesn’t  _ care.  _ All he knows is that he’s  _ flying  _ on it, squirming in place and lost in the feeling of smooth fingertips against his tongue, the tight, slick grip around his cock, Bucky’s voice and scent and touch wrapped all around him, surrounding him. Tony is helpless to do anything but shake and squirm in place, moaning louder as Bucky strokes him faster, grip tight and twisting slightly around the head, like he’s  _ trying  _ to take Tony apart as efficiently as possible.

Tony is  _ so close,  _ edges of his awareness gone soft and fuzzy as the building, burning pleasure in his gut climbs higher and he knows that’s a problem, but for the life of him he can’t remember  _ why.  _ He can’t think about anything but working his tongue over Bucky’s fingers, cock throbbing as he tries to roll his hips up to meet the motion of Bucky’s hand, floating on the knowledge that Bucky thinks he’s  _ good. _

“Baby, lookit me now, c’mon,” Bucky says, and Tony wasn’t even aware his eyes were closed until he prys them open to the sight of Bucky’s warm smile, the only thing he can seem to focus on. “You’re gonna tell me when you’re close, got it?” Bucky orders, that gentle command back in his tone and it makes Tony’s stomach clench hard.

He doesn’t want to lose Bucky’s fingers in his mouth so Tony just nods, and then groans when Bucky pulls away anyways. Tony whines pitifully and pants for breath, his lips feeling swollen and wet and  _ empty,  _ giving Bucky his best pleading expression and then whining again when all Bucky does is chuckle and gently pat his cheek.

“Can’t talk with your mouth full baby,” Bucky says, and for a split second Tony considers laughing at that idea, snarking something like  _ wanna bet,  _ but in the next second all rational thought is gone from his brain as Bucky continues with “Though I’d like to see you try sometime.”

And oh, Tony is  _ surprisingly  _ on board with that plan, pit of arousal in his gut twisting up hard and he already wants Bucky’s fingers back in his mouth, wants to try and beg around them, wet and muffled, or better yet Bucky’s  _ cock—  _

Tony can feel his orgasm building as he moans and whines and pants for breath, an almost overwhelming heat spreading through his whole body. His legs shake as he strains to pull his thighs closed, escape from the sweet torture of being so exposed, so  _ vulnerable  _ under Bucky’s burning stare. Or maybe trying to spread them  _ wider,  _ all he knows is that he’s  _ so close,  _ he just wants to come and he  _ can’t.  _

“I-  _ ah,  _ I’m gonna come!” Tony manages to gasp out even as every muscle in his body winds tight, his nails digging into his own biceps and toes curling in the carpet, and despite knowing it would happen it still knocks a sound uncomfortably close to a sob out of his chest when Bucky abruptly releases his hold on Tony’s cock and leans away. 

It leaves Tony writhing against the ropes, chest twisting back and forth and his legs pinned firmly in place, cock throbbing almost painfully as his orgasm slips away slowly,  _ so slowly,  _ back down to a squirming ball of pleasure and anticipation low in his gut. All Tony can do is shake his head and he’s not even sure if it’s meant as a denial or just an attempt to clear some of the fuzz out of his mind, the aching desperation to come,  _ god  _ he just wants to come, his cock throbbing and bouncing uselessly in the empty air.

“Good job baby, you did so good,” Bucky croons, words barely audible past the roar of blood in Tony’s ears and still enough to have him slowly beginning to settle, satisfaction and pride swelling so huge in his chest that it nearly shoves down everything else.

At the first brush against his thigh Tony jumps, then quickly lets himself melt under the soothing strokes of Bucky’s hand over his tingling skin, dragging in deep breaths and letting them out as shaking moans. Bucky’s other hand comes up to cup his cheek, the metal cool against his flushed skin, and Tony leans into it heavily as he squirms a little more and sighs out “Please, please sir,  _ please.” _

“Not yet baby, I know it’s hard, but you did so good,” Bucky says, low and rough and sending another hard shudder up Tony’s spine, “I’m so proud of you baby, you did it, you  _ did it _ .” 

Tony nods weakly, pressing his face a little harder into Bucky’s palm and his entire body thrilling at the praise. “Did good sir?” he asks, struggling to keep his eyes open and continue meeting Bucky’s intense gaze, because part of him still can’t believe it, he just wants to hear it again

“You were  _ perfect  _ baby, so good,” Bucky says, so honest that Tony can’t do anything but believe him, warmth in his chest swelling further as he lets out a happy sigh and leans into Bucky’s thumb tracing so gently over his eyebrow, smoothing his hair back. “We’re gonna start again baby, same as before, if you’re gonna come you tell me.”

His stomach gives another hard clench as Tony whines and nods, and  _ fuck  _ he doesn’t know if he’s going to survive this but he wants Bucky’s hand on him again, wants it more than anything. He’s nearly shaking with anticipation as Bucky reaches for him, and when his fingers close around the base of Tony’s cock the feeling is  _ overwhelming. _

Tony sucks in a sharp gasp as his entire body jolts, every inch of him burning with oversensitivity, his cock throbbing in Bucky’s grip and it almost  _ hurts  _ it feels  _ so good. _ When Bucky slowly begins to stroke him again Tony lets out a loud moan, wiggling against the rope and it’s not enough, it’s almost  _ too much,  _ he’s spiraling towards orgasm again entirely too quickly and there’s nothing he can do but try to arch up into Bucky’s grip, try to get  _ more. _

“That’s it baby, feels so good huh?” Bucky asks, his smile toothy and his eyes dark, setting off a fire under Tony’s skin, “Bet you wanna come, don’t you?” 

“Yes sir, pl-  _ oh!”  _ Tony nearly wails at the unexpected swipe of Bucky’s thumb over the head of his cock, writhing in place and whining as Bucky’s grip slowly slides down his cock, so slowly. After panting desperately for breath for a second Tony manages to hiccup out  _ “please _ sir!”

“Not yet baby,” Bucky croons and strokes him harder, faster, until Tony’s spine is pulled into a sharp arch and he kind of loses track of the words spilling out of his mouth amid moans and whines. All he knows is that with every desperate plea Bucky’s smile gets wider, pupils blown out huge and fixed on Tony’s face, his tone teasing as he says “No baby, not yet.”

“ _ Please! _ ” Tony begs, voice ragged, his entire body shaking and every muscle pulled tight, orgasm building bright and almost painful in his gut and he’s  _ so close.  _ It feels like he’s been on the edge for  _ so long  _ now, for a  _ week,  _ and it would be  _ so easy  _ to just let himself tumble over, let the fire consume him and  _ oh god  _ he just wants to come. More than that though, he wants to be  _ good,  _ so even as his cock throbs almost painfully Tony shakes his head and sobs out “I’m gonna— _ Sir! _ ”

Bucky’s hand disappears again and Tony doesn’t have a hope of containing the loud cry that tears out of him, morphing into a broken sob as he hunches forward, every nerve singing with agonizing pleasure. Tony can’t tell if his face is wet with sweat or if it’s actually tears, but either way he doesn’t  _ care.  _ He can’t care about anything beyond the  _ ache  _ in his gut, the way the heated pressure of orgasm is taking  _ so long  _ to fade away again, leaving him shaking and whining around gasping sobs as his cock twitches.

Slowly, the feeling of Bucky’s hand running up and down his back filters into Tony’s awareness, the tight pull of the rope as he heaves for breath and the fact that Bucky is pressed in close, surrounding him, grounding and soothing him as bit by bit Tony starts to come back from the ledge. He can feel Bucky’s uneven breath against his ear, his voice low and rough as he calls Tony  _ gorgeous,  _ and  _ perfect,  _ tells him that he did  _ so good. _

Tony whines again as another hard shiver runs down his spine, nearly bursting out of his skin with satisfaction and pleasure and Bucky’s strong hand around the nape of his neck is the only thing holding him together. He’s doing  _ good,  _ and there’s no room for worry or wondering what he  _ should  _ be doing when all Tony can think about is the pride and warmth in Bucky’s tone, the fact that he did  _ good.  _ He’s making his dom happy, and  _ proud, _ and the knowledge has him  _ flying,  _ practically melting in place and leaning into Bucky as much as he can with the ropes still wound so securely around his legs.

“What's your color baby?” Bucky asks, and despite the fact that his lips can’t be more than a couple inches from Tony’s ear it still feels like his voice is coming from so far away, like it takes forever to travel through the blissed out fuzz in his head and actually register. As soon as it does though, Tony is nodding lazily, as much as he can manage when he feels like all of his muscles have turned to molasses.

“Green sir,” he says and his voice comes out only a little slurred, still clear and emphatic because if Tony has ever felt this amazing in his  _ life _ then he certainly doesn’t remember it.

Bucky makes a soft, pleased humming sound and runs his hand over Tony’s back one more time before saying “Good, now, c’mon and sit up baby, we’re not done yet.”

The rough heat in his voice has a strangled groan slipping out of Tony, and after another full body shudder Tony manages to force himself upright. He slumps back in the chair, so far past being self conscious, and it’s so tempting to just let his head fall back but  _ oh  _ he doesn’t want to miss the way Bucky is looking at him, like Tony has done something amazing. Like  _ Tony  _ is amazing.

“ _ Fuck _ darlin,” Bucky says and he sounds almost breathless, shaking his head like he’s trying to clear it and still staring at Tony with eyes gone nearly black, his voice dropping down to a whisper as he adds “You’re all my dreams come true.”

Tony squirms in place again, chest full and stomach clenching and  _ so damn happy  _ that he can’t even think to argue, just smiles and sighs out “Thank you sir.”

“You’re welcome baby,” Bucky says, metal fingers brushing against Tony’s cheek again. Tony leans into it with a happy sound, barely aware of his still throbbing cock past the swell of pure  _ joy  _ rising inside him as Bucky croons “My sweet thing, you’re doing so good for me.” 

All Tony can do is smile wider, blissed out and floating on Bucky’s voice, all the sweet words, shaking with anticipation as he watches Bucky pour some more lube onto his hand.

“You ready?” Bucky asks with a toothy grin and Tony nods eagerly, failing to completely swallow down a needy moan as Bucky reaches for him again.

It turns out Tony is maybe not quite as ready as he thought, because Bucky decides to focus on the head of his cock again and Tony is instantly reduced to whines and gasping moans. 

“Pl-  _ ah!  _ Oh,  _ please,”  _ he begs raggedly and it’s probably a good thing his legs are tied down, or Tony has a feeling he’d be flailing and kicking as his entire body shakes from overstimulation, cock throbbing with every press of Bucky’s fingers, every pass of his slick, calloused palm.

“Oh, you look so good when you’re begging and shaking for it,” Bucky says with a low groan of his own, dragging his thumb hard over the head of Tony’s cock again and grinning wider when Tony thrashes, “look how much you’re leaking for me baby, feelin so good, hmm? 

Tony squirms harder, his cock throbbing in time with his thundering heartbeat and already rocketing towards orgasm, broken whines reaching a fevered pitch. Bucky pulls away before he actually reaches the edge though, leaving Tony groaning pitifully and trying to arch up against nothing. 

“Please sir-  _ ahh,”  _ Tony cuts off in a shuddering wail as Bucky starts working the head of his cock again, grip a little tighter, motion of his hand a little quicker as he thumbs at the slit. When Bucky stops again, pulling away and sitting back in his seat, it drags another sob out of Tony’s chest and he finally lets his head fall back against the chair, eyes closed and just trying to catch his breath. Trying to remember  _ how  _ to breathe as his entire body shakes.

“Shh, darlin, I got you, so perfect for me,” Bucky breathes out and Tony jolts as Bucky’s slick hand wraps around his cock again, stroking all the way to the base and then pausing there, presumably just to feel the way Tony shudders and whines before slowly sliding back up.

“Please,” Tony slurs out, barely aware that he’s speaking as he arches up against the ropes again, pressing into the next stroke of Bucky’s hand, “Please,  _ please—“ _

Bucky responds by abandoning his cock entirely in favor of rolling Tony’s balls in his palm, rubbing and massaging and telling him how  _ gorgeous  _ he looks while Tony moans and writhes. It’s not enough, it’s  _ so good  _ and by the time Bucky’s hand wraps around his cock again Tony is  _ sobbing,  _ strung so tight that he’s sure he’s going to snap at any second and Bucky just keeps driving him  _ higher. _

After one firm stroke Bucky’s touch disappears, only to return halfway through Tony’s pleading whine and the sound quickly turns into a ragged moan. Over and over again Bucky does it, removing his hand entirely between strokes and Tony has lost all track of time, it could be seconds or  _ hours  _ between each touch and the only thing he knows for sure is that he’s  _ going crazy.  _ He’s reduced to nonstop half-formed begging and needy whines, his back arched sharply and chest heaving, shaking every time Bucky strokes him slowly again and shaking harder every time his hand slides away.

“Oh baby,” Bucky says roughly and it filters  _ so slowly  _ through the heated fog of Tony’s mind, “I aughta keep you like this  _ forever _ .” Bucky strokes him once before pausing again, letting his words sink in and curl hot in Tony’s gut, and then adds “You’re the prettiest picture of submission, just taking what I give you.”

Tony tries to beg again, but he’s not sure if it comes out as words or just more sobbing whines as Bucky continues to stroke him, slow and methodical and relentless, until Tony is just a shivering mess of pleasure and overstimulation. 

“I’m gonna start again now baby,” Bucky says and Tony whines a little louder because he doesn’t know if he’ll _survive,_ only for the sound to get caught in his throat when Bucky adds “And this time, I want you to come.”

Tony gasps raggedly, his entire body jolting and he finally lifts his head again so he can nod jerkily. “Please, yes sir,  _ please,” _ he stutters out, prying his eyes open and meeting Bucky’s gaze, shuddering again at the open  _ hunger  _ in his dark eyes. 

“Oh darlin, listen to you begging’ so pretty, you’re just the sweetest thing ever,” Bucky growls, and Tony is so busy squirming in place he barely notices Bucky reaching out until he’s gently pinching Tony’s nipple. Tony gasps sharply as a spike of heat goes through him, like his chest is connected directly to his poor throbbing cock. “Yea, someday I’m gonna have to play with these, maybe see if we can get you to come just from this,” Bucky says thoughtfully, fingers shifting over the twists of rope to tweak Tony’s other nipple too, making him gasp again.

All Tony can do is nod furiously as he moans and tries to arch his back even further, tries to shove his chest forward and get  _ more,  _ and if he had the brain power or the breath he’d be pointing out that Bucky is already  _ so close  _ to making that happen,  _ please, just a little more—  _

He gasps as Bucky gives his nipple one more tweak, and then whines pitifully when Bucky’s hand falls away.

“Here we go now baby, be good for me and come,” Bucky says lowly, and Tony is seconds from begging again when Bucky’s hand wraps around his cock and wipes all thoughts from his head.

Bucky strokes him quick and firm and unrelenting, and Tony wails as it feels like every lost orgasm comes rushing up on him all at once, completely overwhelming. Tony might be begging, he could also be  _ screaming  _ for all he knows, all he can feel is the rope digging into his calves as he thrashes and writhes, his throat raw and chest heaving as the sharp burning pleasure lights up every nerve in his body. 

Almost instantly Tony finds himself right back at the edge, pressure building almost unbearably inside him, strung tight and ready to snap and he  _ can’t.  _ Another sob tears its way out of his chest as Tony squirms harder, torso twisting back and forth within the binds of the rope and trying desperately to push himself up into Bucky’s sure grip, so close,  _ fuck  _ he’s  _ so close— _

“That’s it,” Bucky growls, voice rich and warm and rumbling as he orders “Come for me Tony.” 

Tony is  _ definitely  _ screaming now, head thrown back and his eyes could be open or closed, all he can see is black spots and bursting colors and he spirals  _ higher, hotter,  _ and when he finally comes it’s  _ agonizing. _

It’s  _ amazing. _

He’s barely even aware of Bucky stroking him through it, words meaningless but his voice heated as it wraps around Tony, pulls him deeper under the intense waves of pleasure. All he can feel is the way his cock throbs almost painfully with every spurt of come, Bucky’s grip on him increasingly slick and still relentless. Tony is pretty sure his spine has melted but that apparently doesn’t stop him from arching against the ropes, thrashing and moaning and  _ drowning  _ in it.

And it  _ doesn’t stop,  _ Bucky keeps working his cock with tight, relentless strokes and Tony  _ keeps coming,  _ moaning out broken sounds of overwhelming pleasure. Even when he thinks he can’t possibly continue, Bucky’s smooth metal fingers reach out to massage his balls like he’s trying to wring Tony dry, and Tony sobs his way through it as his cock throbs in Bucky’s grip and dribbles out another couple drops.

It’s like being emptied out in the best possible way, until the only thing left inside him is heat and pleasure and a warm, hazy feeling of satisfaction that nearly swallows up everything else. 

By the time Bucky finally slows the motion of his hands and pulls away Tony’s breath is escaping in nonstop moans, head still tipped back and eyes firmly closed as he shakes with aftershocks. 

He’s dimly aware that Bucky is doing  _ something,  _ he can hear the sounds of things being shifted and adjusted on the room service cart, but Tony can’t drag up the energy to open his eyes and find out  _ what.  _

Tony is pretty sure that he’s drifting, half asleep and so far into subspace that he doesn’t even know which way is up, and when Bucky speaks again it takes several long seconds for the words to register. Something about wiping him off, and that does sound good, Tony is sure he’s a mess of sweat and come at this point but all he can mange is a weak nod and another soft moan.

He doesn’t even jump at the first brush of a warm towel against his forehead, too blissed out and relaxed. He just leans into it with a happy sound, lets the soothing smell of vanilla and lavender wash over him. Bucky is so gentle as he carefully wipes Tony’s face clean of sweat, probably some tears and drool too and he doesn’t even call Tony pathetic.

It fills him with all sorts of warm fuzzy feelings, and all Tony has to do is focus on breathing, smiling dazedly as Bucky’s wide palm cups the side of his neck, squeezing gently and keeping him grounded even as he shivers again.

“Ok baby, time to get you outta those ropes and cleaned off,” Bucky says softly and Tony nods again, finally dragging his eyes open again to the sight of Bucky smiling at him, warm and so happy that it has pride rising in Tony’s chest again.

He doesn’t even mind the loss of the tight loops and knots of the rope because he still has Bucky’s hands all over him, rubbing over the indents over his ribs and laying Tony’s limp arms out along the padded armrests of the chair. Tony’s dopey smile gets wider as Bucky slides to his knees again and sets to work on undoing the knots around his legs, massaging the tired muscles and it’s probably a good thing that Tony is still too boneless to move his arms, or else he might do something stupid. Like trying to reach out and smooth back the strands of Bucky’s hair that have fallen out of his bun, find out if it’s as soft as it looks.

Tony makes a couple more happy noises as Bucky wipes down his arms and then his chest, keeping his eyes open through pure force of will because he doesn’t want to miss a second of the look in Bucky’s eyes. Warm and something Tony’s orgasm-stupid brain wants to call  _ fond.  _ It drags a whine out of him when the towel drags over his cock, still gentle but so close to  _ too much,  _ skin so oversensitive that it leaves him squirming in his seat and almost overwhelmed with the sudden range of movement he has.

Bucky hushes him gently, working efficiently while still making sure to clean every last trace of come and lube from Tony’s skin. “C’mere baby, lemme help you up,” Bucky says softly, and then ignores Tony’s sleepy protests in favor of tugging him up to his feet and then steadying him when his legs shake. Bucky doesn’t complain when Tony has to lean heavily against his shoulders to stay upright, just starts gently wiping down his legs too and Tony might zone out a little again because the next thing he knows he’s being hoisted up into the air.

He’s only vaguely aware of being moved across the room. Tony is far more interested in melting into Bucky’s arms where they’re wrapped strong and secure around him, tipping his chin up just enough to press his face into the warm curve of Bucky’s throat.

More movement, more shifting, and Tony still can’t be bothered to open his eyes until he feels a blanket settle warm and heavy around his shoulders. Bucky is still smiling at him, hand huge and soothing as he rubs over Tony’s shoulders and down the line of his back.

“Heya darlin, just rest, okay?” Bucky encourages, his eyes half closed and voice soft, and that sounds like an  _ amazing  _ idea.

Tony can already feel sleep sweeping up to claim him, dragging him under, down into the hazy warmth of being pressed against Bucky from head to toe, the steady pounding of Bucky’s heartbeat in his ear where Tony’s head is pillowed on his chest. All he can do is try to return Bucky’s warm smile and he’s not even sure if he manages to get out the agreement he’s aiming for before his eyes fall closed and he’s gone.

It could be hours or days later when Tony blinks himself awake, his mind still pleasantly foggy and his entire body feeling like melted taffy, almost disconnected. 

The room is darker around him, like the sun has been down for a couple hours now, and it’s only when he finally convinces his limp muscles to shift in the tiniest of stretches that he realizes he’s still sprawled across Bucky’s chest, still stretched out in the giant bed with the blankets pulled warm and close around them. He still has Bucky’s heartbeat in his ear, strong and steady and threatening to put him right back to sleep.

Tony almost wants to laugh, because oh look at that, things have finally taken a bed-related turn, just... not at all the way he had expected. Tony certainly has no memory of putting his briefs back on himself, and it may have been a very,  _ very  _ long time since Tony has been so deep into subspace that he zones out that hard, but he’s extremely sure it’s never involved zoning back in with  _ more  _ clothes on, feeling relaxed and  _ satisfied. _

Not a single part of finding a dom has gone the way Tony expected, and he really can’t find the energy to worry about it right now. He’s too blissed out and sleepy, too  _ happy  _ to work up the energy to start overthinking everything right now.

He’ll have plenty of time and brainpower for that later.

For now, Tony just focuses on lifting his head so he won’t be lulled back to sleep, dragging his heavy arms up and crossing them over Bucky’s chest so he can rest his chin on them and prop himself up a little. The indents the rope left on his arms are still deep and distinct, set in much more firmly than last time after all his pulling and writhing, and when Tony stretches his legs a little he can feel that the marks are even deeper there. Tony can’t help shifting again, just a little, feeling the way Bucky’s jeans drag against his skin.

Bucky doesn’t even twitch at Tony’s sluggish, clumsy movements, and Tony can’t quite decide how he should feel about that, either. Possibly offended, that he doesn’t rank as enough of a threat for a highly trained super soldier to wake up when Tony starts wiggling around. Or terrified, that Bucky might  _ trust  _ him, trust him enough to continue sleeping peacefully as Tony shifts against him. Just like even deep in subspace and at his most vulnerable, Tony had apparently trusted Bucky enough to not even notice being moved across the room and bundled up in bed.

It’s way more than Tony’s foggy brain can handle right now, way too many what-ifs and things that are going to require their very own dedicated anxiety attacks. For now it seems so much easier to just let himself drift, lazy and comfortable, studying the strong line of Bucky’s jaw without worrying about being caught.

And if he maybe gets a little caught up staring at the perfect pink bow of Bucky’s lips, Tony can just blame that on the fact that he’s not fully awake yet.

Bucky wakes up slowly, which is probably more fascinating than it should be to watch. He draws in a slightly deeper breath, Tony rising and falling with his chest as his fingers twitch slightly where they still lay between Tony’s shoulder blades, and the lines around his mouth and eyes that had softened in sleep tightening up ever so slightly. Even more interesting though, is that a second later Bucky is smiling again, eyes still closed as his calloused fingers begin tracing up and down Tony’s spine.

It’s still a couple minutes before Bucky actually opens his eyes, giving Tony a little more time to study the lines of his face, and when Bucky’s sharp, clear blue gaze fixes on him again Tony finds his breath catching in his chest a little.

“Hey baby,” Bucky says in a voice that’s low and rough, running his fingers through Tony’s hair and rubbing at his scalp exactly the way that makes Tony melt, “Sleep okay?”

Tony can’t stop his eyes from falling closed, humming and nodding a little but mostly just trying to push up into Bucky’s fingers in his hair. When Bucky chuckles softly Tony can feel the way it rumbles through Bucky’s chest and into his own, making his heart lurch.

“That’s good darlin,” Bucky croons, scraping his nails lightly along the base of Tony’s skull and making him shiver. “You’re so sweet and soft, huh?” Bucky asks, and Tony can practically  _ hear  _ his grin, “Could spend all night scratchin’ your head like a kitten.” 

Tony makes an indignant noise, cracking one eye open to give Bucky a half-hearted glare because he is  _ not  _ a cat, thank you very much, and he is certainly not a  _ kitten. _ He also has to resist the urge to hiss in reaction to this outrageous insult, because it would probably not help his case at all.

“ _ What _ ?” Bucky asks in a slow, teasing drawl that curls warm in Tony’s chest, grinning wider in response to Tony’s deepening glare, “You’re beautiful baby, a sweet little kitten.” 

The way Bucky winces when Tony pinches his side is pretty gratifying, and Tony only gets a little distracted by the feel of the firm muscle hidden under his clothes. When Bucky laughs his chest shakes with it, bouncing Tony in place slightly, laugh lines appearing around his eyes, and Tony has to quickly drag his own eyes away under the guise of rolling them because they are  _ too close.  _ If Tony’s heart starts doing all sorts of stupid gymnastics at the sight of Bucky’s expression so light and gorgeous, then Bucky is absolutely going to notice.

“M’not a cat,” Tony tries to grumble as he ducks his head to bury his flushed face in his arms, but he can’t force any actual heat or annoyance into the words. Especially because Bucky just keeps running his fingers through his hair, scratching at his scalp.

“I know darlin, I’m just foolin,” Bucky says warmly, dragging his fingers up over the crown of Tony’s head and then doing it again when Tony shivers under his touch. Bucky’s voice is still soft and gentle as he traces his thumb over the curve of Tony’s ear and asks “How you feelin baby? You up?”

Tony hums, considering, and then makes a noncommittal noise. “Kinda, kinda not,” he finally says, and isn’t that interesting. Tony can’t even remember the last time he just happily let himself linger on the edge of subspace, the last time he didn’t drag himself back up as quickly as possible. Something occurs to him, and Tony winces a little before quickly tacking on “Sir. Sorry.” 

“It’s fine darlin,” Bucky says quickly, his other hand running up and down Tony’s back and soothing the tension out of him as quickly as it can build, ”I don’t mind you forgetting sometimes. Nothin to worry about.”

Well, that’s certainly new. Tony lifts his head just enough to see Bucky’s face, searching it for any sign of some kind of trap, because what is the  _ point  _ of a title if he’s not going to be punished for forgetting it? 

Once again though, Bucky appears completely serious and all Tony can do is nod even though he doesn’t  _ understand.  _ He doesn’t want to question it though, afraid that if he pokes too many holes the entire confusing but  _ amazing  _ arrangement will fall apart. So instead Tony just tips his head to the side slightly, pressing a little harder into Bucky’s fingers in his hair, and Bucky laughs again.

“Not a kitten huh?” he teases, obligingly scratching his fingers through Tony’s hair and down to the nape of his neck with the perfect amount of pressure to have Tony melting against him, all his worries slipping away.

Still, Tony can’t let him get away with that, so he pinches Bucky a little harder even as he fails to completely fight down a happy noise building in his chest.

“Oh kitty has claws, huh?” Bucky asks, and then laughs when Tony pinches him again with a baleful glare. Bucky’s other hand is huge and unfairly soothing as it drags up and down his spine, and when Bucky’s eyes fall closed there’s not a single thing Tony can do to stop his own from doing the same.

It’s so easy to lose himself in the warm, weightless feeling still clinging to the fringes of his mind, and Tony is all too happy to let himself drift again. He doesn’t have to think about anything but Bucky’s hands in his hair and against his skin, tracing the line of his spine like Bucky is trying to memorize it and pushing all of Tony’s worries away for later.

Tony is well on his way to falling right back to sleep, barely even notices Bucky’s fingers sliding free from his hair before Bucky is squeezing his shoulder and smiling as Tony blearily opens his eyes again.

“Time for debrief baby,” Bucky says gently as his fingers make one more pass up Tony’s spine and smiles a little wider at Tony’s soft whine of complaint. “C’mere and lay beside me,” he encourages, shifting up enough to prop himself against the headboard, and with another sigh Tony reluctantly prys himself away from his surprisingly comfortable spot on Bucky’s chest to settle beside him instead, laying on his side propped up on one elbow.

Once they’re stretched out beside each other, still close but no longer touching, Tony can feel his head finally starting to clear the rest of the way. It has all his worries starting to creep up on him again, along with the dawning realization that Tony was just glaring at and  _ pinching  _ his dom, even if it was at the very end of a scene, and all Bucky did was  _ laugh. _

Tony has to bite down the urge to apologize, because it really didn’t seem like Bucky minded, and if he did he’d say so, right?  _ Fuck  _ Tony just hopes all his mistakes aren’t being carefully cataloged and stored to be brought up later. It wouldn’t be the first time, and Tony is  _ not  _ a fan of that tactic. Mostly because he makes a  _ lot  _ of mistakes, and having them all pointed out at once really drives home how  _ terrible  _ he is.

He doesn’t notice he’s started chewing on his lips and anxiously adjusting the sheet until Bucky’s hand lands on his hip, amazingly soothing even if it does also serve as a sharp reminder that Tony is still mostly naked, and Tony feels heat trying to curl in his stomach again as he drags his eyes up to meet Bucky’s.

“Hey baby,” Bucky says, barely more than a whisper, his smile warm and open and Tony quickly ducks his chin again as heat spreads through his cheeks too. Bucky’s thumb taps against his hip bone, like he’s trying to make sure he still has Tony’s attention, like Tony could possibly be focused on anything  _ else,  _ and his voice is still soft as he says “Tell me, did you enjoy that?”

“I did,” Tony blurts before he even has a chance to think about it, meeting Bucky’s eyes again and just hoping it doesn’t show on his face how  _ surprised  _ he is. Even with all his thinking about it the past week, and overthinking it, and  _ dreaming  _ about it, Tony never could have expected just  _ how much  _ he’d enjoy being so completely at Bucky’s mercy, overwhelmed and helpless with it. “It was... intense,” he admits slowly, and even that feels like a massive understatement, “I-I’ve never, um, experienced anything like that before.”

“What was your favorite part?” Bucky asks, honest curiosity on his face and in his tone, his thumb still rubbing soothing circles on Tony’s hip, and Tony has to resist the urge to blurt out  _ ‘everything’. _

Instead he takes a second to actually think about it, dropping his gaze to watch his own fingers scratch over the sheet below him and a small smile growing on his face. 

“I uh, I liked how it felt  _ not _ to come,” he admits as his face flushes darker, “and the um, being held so tight by the ropes and just... being overwhelmed with it, shaking and h-helpless.” Tony lets his eyes fall closed, the heat in his face almost  _ unbearable  _ and he doesn’t  _ care,  _ far too busy losing himself in the memory, shifting just enough that he can get one hand up to trace over the rope marks still set in deep across his ribs. “It felt...  _ safe,” _ Tony adds in a rough whisper, barely aware that he’s actually speaking because he can’t get over how  _ true  _ that is. He hadn’t thought to worry once about what was expected of him, or what was going to happen next, just trusted Bucky to take care of him and Tony can’t remember the last time he felt like that. If  _ ever. _

_ ‘Intense’  _ doesn’t even  _ begin  _ to cover it.

“Good, that’s so good baby,” Bucky says, just as quiet, his voice equally rough, and Tony shivers again, “Anything you didn’t like?” 

Tony immediately shakes his head, because that’s one thing he doesn’t even have to think about. He may not remember everything super clearly towards the end there, but Tony is very sure that he’d enjoyed every hazy second of it. Even now, he feels relaxed and  _ good,  _ like his nerves are still singing with the aftershocks of pleasure.

Then he freezes, blood going cold, as something else occurs to him. “I uh, did you come?” Tony forces himself to ask, glancing up at Bucky before quickly dropping his eyes again and resisting the urge to curl in on himself.  _ Fuck, _ he shouldn’t have let himself zone out so hard, he should have been paying more attention, he may not know exactly what Bucky wants from him but he knows he should be doing  _ something,  _ making himself useful  _ somehow.  _ “I don’t remember you coming, so I uh, just want to make sure you enjoyed it, I guess?” 

Bucky smiles and his hand leaves Tony’s hip to cup his cheek instead, which is encouraging, but what he says is “Don't you worry about me darlin, I  _ loved _ what we did.”

“But you didn’t come,” Tony says, because that was not actually an answer to his question, and he can read between the lines, “I should—” 

He doesn’t bother to finish the sentence, figures his intentions will be clear when he reaches for Bucky’s belt and it’s almost a _relief_ to finally have something to do with himself. This is something Tony can do, something he’s _good_ at and he’s actually _looking forward_ to getting his hands on Bucky, and his mouth, he can be _good_ and he can’t believe he almost didn’t _ask._

Tony is never going to forgive himself if he fucks up and loses this, and it has very little to do with getting rid of all those pesky withdrawal symptoms and a whole lot to do with  _ Bucky,  _ the fact that he’s sweet and gorgeous and  _ gentle  _ and Tony knows he needs to be  _ good enough  _ to even come close to deserving that, he has to at least  _ try— _

”Hey, no, darlin, hold up,” Bucky says, catching Tony’s hand in his own calloused grip and gently pulling it away. 

Tony feels something cold crawl down his spine, chest clenching in fear that he’s already taken too long and he doesn’t even care if he’s going to be punished for it, he just doesn’t want Bucky to  _ leave.  _

Bucky doesn’t leave, instead he brings Tony’s hand up to his face and kisses his knuckles, soft and _ so gentle  _ and Tony’s brain comes to a screeching halt, breath catching in his throat. “You’re so sweet to want that for me,” Bucky says, low and  _ earnest, _ “But I don’t need it and tonight I don’t really want it.”

That probably makes the least sense of anything Bucky has ever said to him, and for a second all Tony can do is blink at him, barely even remembering to  _ breathe.  _ “You...  _ don’t  _ want to come?” he finally repeats stupidly, hoping the words will make more sense if he says them himself but nope, no such luck.

Tony is about to start insisting that he’ll be good, he is  _ excellent  _ with his mouth, there’s a reason Ty used to say he was only good for one thing, after all, but Bucky presses a slightly firmer kiss to his knuckles and Tony’s brain turns right back into mush. God, Bucky makes it look  _ so easy. _

“I’m, well I  _ guess _ they call it a service top these days,” Bucky says and Tony can’t help smiling slightly at his tone, mouthing  _ ‘these days’  _ to himself and it may not be the time for old man jokes but  _ oh,  _ Tony is thinking them. 

It’s definitely easier than actually thinking about Bucky’s  _ words,  _ because he hadn’t thought people like Bucky actually  _ existed.  _ Like unicorns. 

Bucky is still talking, and Tony manages to drag his attention back in time to hear “It brings me pleasure to do the things you like and to see you happy.” 

His surprise is definitely showing on his face at this point, and Tony returns to staring down at the sheets as he swallows thickly. “So, you don’t mind not coming?” He can’t help asking again, because he has to be  _ sure,  _ because there’s still that little voice in the back of his head telling him that he’s not doing  _ enough.  _ He’s not doing  _ anything. _

But Bucky just shakes his head with a soft laugh and says “Not really. Sometimes it matters more than others. Tonight was all about making you feel good and getting you off after I got to edge you.” 

Tony can’t get over the way he says it, like somehow  _ Bucky  _ is the one who’s coming out ahead here when that is undeniably Tony. But he’s also not going to argue, because he’s sure it won’t take long for Bucky to realize he can do  _ way  _ better. Tony is just going to enjoy it while he can, so he hums and nods before looking up to meet Bucky’s warm stare.

“So, what do you want to do next time?” Tony asks, because if for some reason Bucky is determined to make  _ Tony  _ happy, do things that  _ Tony  _ likes, then the least Tony can do is try and make sure Bucky is actually getting something out of it too. And there are probably a whole lot of things Tony would agree to, if Bucky asked just right, but that’s another thing Tony is saving to panic about later.

Bucky takes his time answering, like he’s running through some kind of mental list, and then breaks out into a toothy grin. Bucky’s lips brush his knuckles one more time before he releases Tony’s hand and returns to gently squeezing his hip. “I was thinking,” Bucky finally says, nonchalant tone at complete odds with his wicked smirk, “Have you ever been rimmed before?” 

There’s not a thing Tony can do to stop his eyes from flicking down to Bucky’s lips, just for a second, his own mouth suddenly dry and breath catching in his chest as he shakes his head slightly. “I—“ Tony starts to stutter out and then has to pause and wet his lips, drag in a breath before he admits “One time in college, but we were both pretty drunk and I don’t really... remember it being all that good.”

With another thoughtful noise Bucky spreads his hand a little wider over Tony’s hip, fingers just barely but  _ intentionally  _ brushing over the curve of his ass, and Bucky’s eyes go a little darker as Tony drags in a ragged breath. “Well,” Bucky says, voice still easy and light while his toothy grin has heat trying to curl in Tony’s gut again, “I was thinking that I could try that for you, see if I can make you come that way.”

Tony nods jerkily, resisting the urge to squirm under Bucky’s stare, and he has to swallow hard before he can speak. “I, I don’t know if I  _ can,”  _ he admits before he can stop himself, and then hurries to add “But I guess, if it’s what you want to do, then sure.”

“Do  _ you _ want to try it?” Bucky asks, one eyebrow raised, and Tony does his best to ignore the way his heart gives that stupid little lurch again, ”If you’re not interested, that’s fine.”

“I... am,” Tony says haltingly, because it’s not that he’s _opposed,_ exactly, and he’s definitely interested, it’s just that— “I just, I don’t know what to expect,” he admits, and he hates having to admit to not knowing something almost as much as the _not knowing._

Bucky just smirks, gives Tony’s ass a quick squeeze and then grabs his hand again while Tony is still distracted sputtering and blushing. 

Tony can only watch, wide eyed, as Bucky slowly and pointedly rubs Tony’s fingers against the coarse hair of his short beard before breathing hot and wet against the tingling skin. There’s already a whine trying to build in Tony’s chest, and he can’t completely stop it when Bucky switches to laying open mouthed kisses on his knuckles, his tongue  _ so red  _ when it swipes out against Tony’s fingers.

By the time Bucky switches back to nuzzling against his fingers Tony is breathless, nearly shaking all over again and he  _ can’t look away.  _ He can’t tear his eyes away from the heated expression on Bucky’s face, his eyes dark and smile knowing as he says “Feels like that, except, well, I’ll be eating you out so it’ll be better.”

“Right, uh, good, that’s, that’s good,” Tony stutters out as he ducks his head, face practically  _ burning  _ and his insides going all squirmy with nerves and anticipation. After a couple seconds to collect himself and a rough clearing of his throat Tony convinces himself to look up at Bucky again, feeling uncharacteristically shy under Bucky’s steady gaze. “Should I do any kind of uh, tidying up?” he asks, cheeks flushing a little darker but well, it’s an important question.

Bucky just looks confused, an adorable little wrinkle forming between his eyebrows like he has no idea what Tony is talking about, and sure enough his voice comes out as more of a question than anything as he says “I...no? I’ll clean up the room before we go?”

Tony laughs softly even as he makes a mental note that he should probably help with that, and then smirks as he asks “No, I mean, should I get a wax and a bleaching?” 

“Darlin, I’m pretty sure I don’t wanna know,” Bucky says slowly, and Tony laughs a little harder at the open and resigned horror on his face, “But what the  _ hell _ would you be  _ bleaching _ ?”

“Ahhh see now  _ that’s _ how I know you aren’t a hipster,” Tony teases, letting his arm collapse so he can lay comfortably on his side, careful not to dislodge Bucky’s hold on his hand, and then grins up at Bucky as he adds “because if you  _ were, _ you’d have your balls and taint waxed and your asshole bleached.” 

It apparently takes Bucky a couple seconds to process that information, and Tony watches gleefully as Bucky’s eyes go wide and his mouth falls open. “Kids these days,” he finally says, shaking his head sadly and then winking and grinning when Tony laughs again. “Jesus,  _ no _ , please don’t do that to yourself, not unless it’s something you enjoy,” he says firmly, and Tony can’t say he’s particularly surprised after Bucky’s reaction.

Still, Tony shrugs and thoughtfully says “It’s been a long time, but I don’t mind waxing. It’ll make everything more sensitive, I-I bet that’ll be good.”

“Sure, yea, if that’s what you want darlin,” Bucky says with a slow nod, and Tony just continues grinning, because if he lets himself pause to think too hard about the way Bucky’s rough beard and hot mouth will feel  _ other places  _ then he is going to get  _ very distracted. _

Tony jumps a little when his stomach growls loudly, and before he can apologize Bucky is already waving him off and rolling out of bed, finally releasing Tony’s hand and leaving it cold. He watches in confusion as Bucky makes his way back to the room service cart, and for a second Tony thinks he’s packing up, but instead Bucky uncovers what appears to be a steak dinner.

Bucky puts the plate in the small microwave on the bar in the corner, quick and confident as he moves around the room, and before Tony knows it there’s a platter on his lap with a glass of water and a bunch of fries and yep, an amazing looking steak.

“I hope it’s okay,” Bucky says, and when Tony drags his eyes up from staring in disbelief at the full meal in his lap Bucky’s expression is something he almost wants to call hesitantly proud. “I ordered it rare so that when I reheated it, it would wind up medium rare.”

Sure enough, when Tony cuts into the steak it’s perfectly done and turns the plate a little so Bucky can see, grinning wide in the hopes that it will hide the fact that there’s a lump growing in his chest. The first bite is warm and juicy and perfect, and Tony almost has trouble swallowing it as that stupid lump crawls it’s way up this throat.

“This is... wow,” He says, voice a little shaky as he glances up at Bucky and he doesn’t know what to  _ say,  _ doesn’t know how to react in the face of Bucky’s constant thoughtfulness and the way that it really just drives home that Tony has been nothing but useless every time they see each other. Just spoiled and selfish, letting Bucky take care of everything and he has to say  _ something.  _ “Thank you sir,” Tony finally manages, voice tight, glancing up at Bucky again with another smile, because despite everything there’s still a warm swell of happiness in his chest, a pleasant tingling under his skin.

Bucky just smiles wider and nods, climbing back into bed and Tony lets go of a little tension he hadn’t even realized was building as Bucky slides under the blankets and settles in beside him again. When he reaches out to steal one of Tony’s fries it’s almost a relief, letting Tony focus on making offended huffing noises instead of dwelling on the fact that he feels more relaxed with Bucky’s solid weight beside him.

It’s also a relief because Tony realizes right, Bucky is probably hungry too, and sharing his food is totally something Tony can do. It’s not much, but it’s  _ something,  _ and Tony wastes no time cutting off another bite and holding it out to Bucky hopefully.

He’s kind of expecting Bucky to just take the fork from him, but that’s not what Bucky does. Instead, he leans in closer and carefully bites the steak directly from the fork, eyes never leaving Tony as he chews and swallows. Tony can’t stop staring at his  _ mouth,  _ he can’t stop thinking about what Bucky’s lips and scruff had felt like against his fingers, and how Tony would actually very much like to feel it again. Anywhere, he’s not even picky at this point.

Tony snaps out of his haze when Bucky shoots a pointed glance at the plate, and he quickly ducks his head as his cheeks heat again, grabbing for a couple of fries.

Once he starts eating he realizes how hungry he actually is, and Tony manages to shove all those pesky thoughts down and just focus on enjoying his steak. He continues to hold every couple bites out to Bucky, smiling wider every time Bucky accepts and the dumb little wiggle of pride in his chest growing bigger, because at least it’s  _ something. _

They settle into an easy silence as Tony eats and Bucky mostly just watches him, stealing the occasional fry and then grinning when Tony glares before quickly offering him a bite of steak to go with his stolen fry each time. For once Tony doesn’t feel the need to fill the quiet, and not just because his throat is still kind of dry from all the sobbing and begging. It’s a little weird, but it’s also... nice. 

He still doesn’t know what Bucky expects from him, doesn’t know who he should be in reaction to that. But right now, still clinging to the very last edges of subspace, Tony is too blissed out to work up the proper amount of anxiety about it, and instead he can just...  _ be. _

Tony is picking at the last remaining crispy bits of fries when Bucky slides off the bed again, and Tony watches curiously as he crosses the room and opens the balcony doors. It’s raining softly, and his confusion increases as Bucky pulls off his socks and steps out under the meager cover of the ledge of the roof.

He considers pointing out that there  _ is  _ a shower, if Bucky wants to rinse off, but in the end Tony decides against it and pops the last french fry into his mouth. Besides, it’s not like Bucky doesn’t make a nice picture, lit up in silhouette by the hazy light of the city and his head tipped back into the rain, broad shoulders moving smoothly in time with his deep breaths.

Eventually Tony starts to feel like a bit of a creep, just sitting in bed staring at Bucky, so he convinces his legs to work with him and slowly climbs out of bed as well. He pulls on his shirts and jeans, then hesitates for a second before crossing the room as well.

Bucky turns towards him as Tony steps out onto the balcony beside him, a sheepish smile on his face, a couple raindrops caught in his eyelashes, and  _ fuck  _ he’s so gorgeous, Tony almost loses his breath under the weight of it. “Sorry, didn’t mean to abandon you,” Bucky says, voice soft and almost  _ shy, _ “I just like the rain.” 

Tony nods and quickly drags his eyes away before he can give into the ridiculous urge to reach out and carefully brush the water from the curve of Bucky’s cheek, from the fan of his eyelashes. Instead Tony looks out over the city, dragging in a deep breath of his own.

“I like the way it smells after,” Tony admits, reaching out to grab hold of the railing for something to do with his hands, because he apparently can’t trust himself not to reach for Bucky. “It never lasts very long,” he adds with a soft laugh, paying no mind to the light rain slowly soaking into his sleeves, “Especially in the middle of the city, but it’s nice. Like everything is reborn. And I don’t need to tell you, the city very rarely smells  _ nice.” _

“Petrichor,” Bucky says, and then looks confused when Tony wrinkles his nose.

“Bless you,” Tony says and he feels a smile split his face when Bucky laughs softly.

“Petrichor,” Bucky says again, and when Tony quirks an eyebrow he explains “The smell of the earth after the rain.” Tony nods thoughtfully, because of  _ course  _ there’s a word for that, and then looks over at Bucky again when he says “Sometimes I wish I could leave the city.” Apparently Tony’s surprise is obvious, because Bucky grins a little as he adds “Yea, I know, a Brooklyn boy lookin to leave home? Only problem is, it hasn’t been home in seventy some years. Now it’s just a place I live.”

Tony nods slowly, not entirely sure what to say to that, and he finally settles on “I used to live in Malibu. It was quiet and on the beach and everyone left me alone.”

“Sounds nice,” Bucky says, and Tony hums as he nods again, because it  _ was.  _ It was probably the last place that really felt like  _ home,  _ and it was definitely the last place his life was anything even close to simple.

“It was, especially during a storm,” Tony says wistfully, dragging his gaze back to the overcast sky, “Sometimes I couldn’t see further than a couple thousand yards from the window, and it was kind of like... being in the middle of nowhere.”

They fall into another comfortable silence, standing close enough that their shoulders touch, and Tony does his best to ignore the way his heart lurches when Bucky’s fingers brush against his own as he taps at the railing.. Much safer to focus on the refreshing feeling of the rain falling softly around them, and  _ not  _ the fact that he would like nothing more than to turn and wrap his arms around Bucky, maybe bury his face in Bucky’s chest again.

Nope, Tony is not having a crisis here, not at all. He’s just watching the way the lights from the city reflect in the falling rain, tiny drops of water shining brightly as they roll down the large windows. It’s peaceful, like the rest of the world and all the real life problems that come with it are so far away and Tony lets out a slow breath, lets himself relax and enjoy it for now.

Bucky is the one to break the silence, voice soft and oddly hesitant as he says “Tony, did you, I mean... was tonight ok? I, I just want to be sure I did ok?” 

Tony turns towards him with a surprised huff of laughter, about to say something about how fishing for compliments is  _ his  _ thing, but stops when his eyes land on Bucky. His jaw is clenched, spine straight and shoulders tight like he’s trying to brace himself for something, like he’s  _ actually worried,  _ and that is just... not right. Bucky is probably the sweetest dom he’s ever even  _ met,  _ Tony is still having trouble believing he’s  _ real,  _ and Bucky is worried that he did  _ okay?  _ Tony doesn’t know what he did, or more likely  _ didn’t  _ do, that has Bucky doubting himself, but he knows that he needs to  _ fix it. _

He just... needs to do it without just blurting out that Bucky is  _ perfect,  _ admitting that he’s  _ amazing  _ and  _ way better than Tony deserves,  _ because Bucky is going to figure that out on his own soon enough and Tony has no plans of speeding that along.

In the interest of getting rid of his withdrawal symptoms. That’s his reason and he’s sticking to it.

The worry on Bucky’s face is very real though, even if he is trying to hide it, so Tony nods quickly and says “Yea, Bucky, you did- tonight was  _ great.” _ His voice comes out quieter than he intended, soft and shaking a little as he finds himself blurting “You’re a great dom, I— I really enjoy my time with you.” 

Okay, that wasn’t too bad, hopefully reassuring without being  _ too  _ honest. After all, Tony has learned his lesson about getting all clingy and needy and letting his emotions spill out everywhere, just because a dom treated him halfway decently a couple times.

He’s learned that lesson  _ repeatedly. _

At least it has Bucky relaxing a little, nodding and turning back to stare out over the city again and Tony can  _ barely  _ see a hint of color spreading across Bucky’s cheeks in the shifting lights. “Good, that’s, that’s good,” Bucky says hoarsely and once again Tony is struck with the urge to hug him, has to tighten his grip on the railing to stop himself.

Tony doesn’t particularly trust himself to say anything else, and he’s  _ not  _ going to give into the urge to wrap his arms around Bucky on the off chance Bucky might want a hug, but he does let himself kind of... lean into Bucky’s side, just a little. Tony knows it’s a poor attempt at reassurance, but he’s never been very good at that anyways.

When Bucky’s arm slides around him Tony lets out the slightest sigh, because at least he doesn’t appear to be making things worse, and then his breath catches when Bucky’s hand slips under his shirt, calloused fingers tracing over the indents in his skin. Bucky is strong and solid against him and Tony leans a little closer, lets himself melt into Bucky’s warmth and enjoys it while he can.

He knows it’s getting late, he knows their time is coming to an end, he just doesn’t want it to happen  _ quite yet. _

Eventually though Bucky sighs and nudges him back towards the open doors, saying “C’mon, don’t want you catching your death.”

_ “Catching my death,”  _ Tony repeats with a snort as he lets himself be guided inside, looking back at Bucky over his shoulder as he teases “You really do sound like a grandpa sometimes, you know that, right?” 

Bucky responds by rolling his eyes and flipping him off with the hand not currently sliding away from his back and Tony grins happily, clinging desperately to the warm feeling of contentment in his chest.

When Bucky pauses to pull his socks and boots back on Tony seizes the opportunity to finally do something with himself, gathering up all the towels and dumping them in the bathroom. He’s sure a couple lightly soiled towels is far from the worst thing the clearing staff has ever seen, but he has to imagine they’d still rather not know the specifics of what was done in any given room after check out.

The rope is already wound up neatly, which Tony does not at all remember happening, but does make it easy to tuck it back into Bucky’s duffle bag before he begins searching for the lube. Tony finally finds it half under the loveseat where it must have gotten kicked when Bucky was moving them, and when he stands up Bucky is  _ right there  _ in his space. Tony’s breath catches, face flushing warm because he hadn’t even noticed Bucky stepping up behind him and from this close, in his bare feet, he has to tip his head back just a little to meet Bucky’s amused gaze.

“Darlin, I said  _ I’d  _ clean up,” Bucky says, grinning and easily plucking the bottle from Tony’s numb fingers.

“Yea I know, I just... thought I’d help,” Tony says carefully, dropping his hands back to his sides as something small and cold tries to curl up in his chest and  _ fuck,  _ he’d thought he was helping, why can’t he  _ ever  _ do the right thing. Despite his best efforts his voice still comes out small as he desperately adds “I want to, you know, make myself useful.”

Bucky’s eyebrows quirk up slightly, and without breaking his intense stare on Tony’s face he tosses the bottle of lube into his bag. It lands perfectly inside the duffle and okay fine, Tony is a little impressed. It’s also probably safer to focus on being impressed, rather than trying to work out what he did wrong. That is a worry for later, when he’s alone in the safety of his lab.

“Darlin?” Bucky prompts, and when Tony drags his gaze back it’s to find a thoughtful expression on Bucky’s face, “you don’t have to be  _ useful _ —you’re a  _ person _ not a  _ tool _ , and if you don’t clean up it doesn’t mean you’re  _ useless _ .” 

Which is all well and good, but Tony still doesn’t know what Bucky actually expects from him, what Bucky  _ wants  _ from him and he’s right back to having no idea what to do with himself. All he knows is that he feels like he needs to do  _ something,  _ needs to give Bucky  _ some  _ reason to keep him around and apparently it shows on his face because Bucky sighs softly.

“Tony, I enjoy being with you because you’re funny and sweet and you make me laugh,” Bucky says softly, a warm, gentle smile on his face and all Tony can do is blink stupidly in response. “You don’t have to be anything other than yourself around me—you don’t need to do things to prove your worth or usefulness. I  _ already like you,”  _ Bucky finishes seriously, studying Tony’s face intently like he wants to make sure it really sinks in.

Tony is caught under the weight of his clear, steel blue stare, can’t do anything but swallow thickly and hope to god he doesn’t  _ cry.  _ He still feels a little lost, because he’s spent huge chunks of his life trying to prove that he can be useful, that he can be  _ worth something,  _ but it’s also... freeing. Like an impossibly heavy weight has been lifted from his shoulders and when he tries to drag in a deep breath it catches wetly in his throat. His vision is starting to blur and Tony decides fuck it, if he’s going to embaress himself by nearly crying then he can stand to embaress himself a little more.

So he takes a half-step forward and finally lets himself bury his face in Bucky’s chest again, his breathing shaky as he winds his arms tightly around Bucky’s waist and clings as hard as he can. For several nerve wracking seconds Bucky doesn’t move, and then his arms come up to wrap around Tony in return, squeezing him back.

“Thank you,” Tony manages to croak out and it doesn’t feel like enough but it’s about all he can manage right now, chest tight with too many emotions to even begin dealing with, relief and happiness and a lingering sense of bafflement mixed in with about a million other things.

Bucky nods, face tucked down into Tony’s hair and heart beat steady in Tony’s ear. “Of course baby,” he says, voice just as soft and hoarse as Tony’s, “Of course.”

When they finally pull apart Tony knows he’s blushing, and to his delight when he glances up at Bucky there’s a matching pink flush across his cheeks too. Tony knows he’s going to have to sort through the mess of emotions in his chest at some point, but right now all he really feels is  _ good,  _ happy and well-fed and a little tired, filled to the brim with warmth, and he’s going to enjoy it for as long as he can.

Bucky starts packing up the little bottles of scented oil he’d brought, and after a second of hesitation Tony walks back over to the bed and starts pulling on his own socks and shoes. He finds his phone next to the couch in the main room, and he’s shrugging into his jacket when Bucky steps out of the bedroom. He has his jacket on as well, duffle bag slung over his shoulder and his hair loose again, and Tony does his best to smile while his heart clenches.

They walk to the elevators together, close enough that their arms brush, and Tony really doesn’t have the brainpower to worry about secrecy right now. It’s late, it’s rainy, odds are high that right now everyone is far more concerned with their own business than what’s happening around them and Tony  _ really  _ doesn’t want to lose the warmth that Bucky radiates. Not just yet.

It’s only at the front doors that they finally have to split up, and when Tony shoots him a wobbly smile Bucky winks and smiles back.

“See you next time darlin,” Bucky says as he pulls the hood of his jacket up, then steps out from under the awning and begins making his way through the sparse, umbrella-wielding crowd on the sidewalk.

Tony watches him go, hands shoved in his pockets and reluctant to step out into the cold rain, reluctant to lose the lingering warmth against his side. If he moves he’ll have to go home, back to the empty tower, where he’ll no doubt end up  _ thinking. _

Bucky glances back just before he turns at the next block, and Tony is helpless against the small smile that grows on his face. He smiles all the way back to the tower and the chill of the rain is just enough to keep him alert, not  _ nearly  _ enough to stop the warm, bright feeling that’s taken up residence in his body.

The elevator ride up to the penthouse is a bit of a blur, and as soon as the doors open Tony heads straight for his bed, eyes grainy and limbs heavy. 

He feels wrung out in the best possible way, every muscle aching pleasantly and a low twist of arousal lingering in his gut, like an ember threatening to burst into flame again if he thinks about it too hard. He pulls off his shirts, kicks his way free of his jeans, and then loses his breath all over again when he finally gets a good look at the rope marks on his legs. They’re extra deep from all his writhing and pulling, just a little red, and Tony feels his face flush as he traces his fingers over the indents.

Tony’s bed is nicer than the one at the hotel, because while he may not have the best sleep schedule, when he  _ does  _ sleep then dammit he’s going to do it right. His bed still feels kind of cold and lonely as he wiggles under the blankets, and that may not actually be anything new but he’d still rather be back at the hotel. He should probably worry about that, because getting attached to things has not historically worked out well for him, but Tony wraps his arms around himself and decides he can deal with that tomorrow.

There’s always tomorrow.

* * *

He sleeps through the night, doesn’t so much as twitch until FRIDAY starts to lighten the tint on the windows and even then all he can manage is tossing one arm over his eyes with a low groan.

“FRI, too early,” he grumbles and then sluggishly lifts his other hand to point one finger at the ceiling as he adds “And don’t tell me that it’s eleven, or I swear—“

“Morning boss,” FRIDAY says brightly, talking right over him, “it’s eleven seventeen AM, the forecast calls for rain all day, and you have thirty five new emails.”

Tony has to fight down a smile, because he can’t exactly complain about all the sass if he doesn’t at least  _ pretend  _ to be annoyed, and instead he waves his hand dismissively as he asks “And how many are marked urgent?”

“Nine,” FRIDAY replies and Tony could  _ swear  _ she’s laughing at him, under the flat tone.

“Okay, but how many of them are marked urgent with at least three exclamation points?” He asks, letting his arm fall away from his eyes and squinting dramatically against the light even though it really isn’t  _ that  _ bright, the sky still overcast and rain drops clinging to the windows.

“Three,” FRIDAY says after a second, and Tony pulls the sheet up over his head with a huff.

“Wake me up if we hit ten,” he mutters, rolling over to bury his face in the pillow and trying to block out the world. To his surprise Tony still has that confusing ball of warm happiness living in his chest and he doesn’t want to lose it, can’t shake the feeling that if he moves too much it’ll slip away like water through his fingers.

He can still smell the oils that Bucky had soaked into the towels, the scent of lavender and vanilla still clinging to his skin with just a hint of something sweet and citrusy beneath it.  _ Orange,  _ Tony thinks to himself as he drifts off again. 

Tony doesn’t finally drag himself out of bed until his stomach starts loudly demanding food, and even then he does so reluctantly. He can’t be bothered with clothes and stumbles to the kitchen in just his briefs, running his fingers idly over the faint indents still left over his ribs.

He starts the coffee maker and grabs the first thing he sees from the fridge on autopilot, eats his cold pizza with a side of coffee while he gives in and starts wading through his emails. This is what he gets for boredom-answering so many yesterday, now he’s set a  _ precedent. _

Eventually Tony realizes that his pizza is gone and his coffee is cold, and he’s just staring absently into space, trying  _ not  _ to let himself get caught up in thinking about yesterday. Because he just knows, if he lets himself think too hard he’ll start  _ overthinking,  _ and that wonderful feeling of contentment he’s clinging to so desperately will disappear. 

So instead he shoves himself to his feet and heads for the shower, stands under the spray of hot water and lets it push down the tension trying to grow in his tired muscles. He’s not ready to give up the soft glow of satisfaction and happiness that’s settled over him yet.

Not just yet.

He ends up spending most of the day in bed, blankets wrapped around himself and mind pleasantly blank, napping on and off and watching raindrops race down the windows. Not letting himself think about anything.

He wakes up Sunday and his bed feels  _ too  _ big, too cold and empty and all he can think about is the way it had felt to wake up tangled up with someone again, warm and comfortable with a steadying heartbeat in his ear. There goes all his hard work from the past couple years, trying to convince himself it’s  _ not _ a thing he missed.

Because the thing is, Tony  _ knows  _ he tends to get attached too quickly, even when he really shouldn’t. He’s learned this lessson time and time again, and he  _ swore  _ to himself he wasn’t going to let it happen this time. Of course, that had seemed a lot easier before  _ Bucky,  _ who is sweet and funny and unfairly gorgeous and so very far from what Tony expected when he went looking for a dom.

Tony doesn’t know how he’s supposed to  _ not  _ get attached, except that he  _ has _ to. Somehow.

Because sooner or later Bucky is going to realize that he can do way better, that Tony is way more trouble than he’s worth. Sooner or later someone is going to point out that Tony can’t be trusted, because it’s not like Bucky doesn’t know people who have first hand proof.

Probably sooner, and Tony is  _ not  _ going to make a fool of himself. He’s just in this to get rid of the withdrawal symptoms, he’s not expecting to actually make a new friend or anything, no matter how much he kind of likes Bucky. He’s  _ definitely  _ not expecting anything more.

When he realizes he’s just thinking in circles Tony throws himself out of bed with a huff, decides he might as well start his day. Do  _ something  _ useful with himself.

The familiar knot of anxiety is back in his lungs, but it’s much smaller than it was even two weeks ago. It’s easier to ignore, easier to breathe around. Less dom withdrawal based and more regularly scheduled anxiety. 

More importantly, there’s not a trace of his headache left at all, and Tony grins as he steps off the elevator into the workshop. The lights all come up around him and he feels clearer,  _ lighter  _ than he has in a long time.

He’s ready to get to work.

Tony loses track of time, working like a mad man to sort through code and approve designs, anything to keep his mind from wandering. And still, every now and then he catches himself idly remembering the way Bucky’s hands had felt on his skin, taking him apart, and he has to furiously refocus on the blueprints in front of him. 

Or he suddenly thinks about how it had felt to wake up sprawled across Bucky’s chest, tucked neatly into bed, and Tony  _ still  _ can’t believe he hadn’t even noticed that happening. There’s a whole list of things Tony probably should have been concerned about but just...  _ wasn’t,  _ and being moved across the room and laid out in bed is definitely at the top. It’s a little terrifying, how far Tony had let himself sink into it, how much trust he’d put in Bucky without even realizing it.

It’s even more terrifying that all he wants is to do it again.

Tony keeps working, only pauses long enough to order takeout and then stays in the lab way too late, until his eyes burn and it feels like he’s yawning nearly constantly.

He stumbles back to bed and starts falling asleep as soon as his head hits the pillow and it’s weird, after so long with insomnia as a constant companion. Tony knows, realistically, that it’s not actually possible to catch up on lost sleep, but it sure as hell feels like he’s trying.

_ Four more days,  _ Tony thinks.

He wants to kick himself immediately afterwards, but he’s still grinning as he drifts off.

* * *

Pepper comes to find him on her lunch break on Monday, when he’s in the middle of trying to teach DUM-E the difference between a spanner and an adjustable plier for the millionth time.

Tony doesn’t even notice she’s there until he hears her soft laughter from the doorway, and Tony is already grinning as he spins on his stool because  _ god  _ it’s been too long since he last heard that sound. 

“Good morning,” Tony says brightly even though it's well into the afternoon and gives an awkward wave with his handful of wrenches, “How was your weekend? And have you seen literally any of my pliers?”

“My weekend was good, and I think you know I can never find a damn thing in this mess,” Pepper says without missing a beat, stepping further into the lab and shooing DUM-E away when he tries to hand her the two inch wrench Tony is refusing to take.

DUM-E wheels away with a sad beep to hand the tool to U instead, who rolls off with it, and dammit Tony just  _ knows _ he’s going to need that soon, just because his idiot children have run off with it. He shakes his head with a disappointed sigh, and when he looks back to Pepper it’s to find her smiling widely at him, equal parts smug and delighted. 

That’s her  _ ‘I was right and we all know it’  _ face, and Tony can’t work up more than a light pout as she says “Seems like you had a good weekend too.” She pauses to give him a once over and Tony is sure that he must look about a hundred times better than he did before she forced that business card into his hand after the disaster at the gala, but thankfully she’s too classy to  _ really _ rub it in. “You finished nearly a week’s worth of work yesterday,” she says instead, “I wanted to come make sure you haven’t actually started mainlining your coffee.”

“No,” Tony says with a scoff, and waits a second before adding “FRI won’t let me.” He grins wider as Pepper laughs again, then slowly drops his gaze back to the table in front of him, starts sorting out the random assortment of wrenches DUM-E had brought him as he slowly admits “I feel... better. I can sleep, headache is gone, it’s— yeah. You were right.”

“Of course I was, I usually am,” Pepper replies instantly, but her smile is gentle. She clears off an extra stool and gracefully sinks onto it, giving Tony an assessing look. “So,” she says slowly, and Tony tries to look as busy as possible because he  _ knows  _ that tone, but she stubbornly continues to ask “are you going to tell me about this new dom?”

“I am not,” Tony says firmly, because  _ oh god  _ he doesn’t even want to  _ think _ about what Pepper’s reaction would be to finding out the service she recommended matched him with  _ Bucky Barnes.  _

Plus, it’s only fair to not say considering he asked Bucky to do the same thing and  _ fuck  _ Tony really hopes he’s not an idiot for beleiveing Bucky’s promise not to say a word. He wants to be able to trust that promise, he really does, but it’s also hard not to think of all the ways it could slip out. Even unintentionally, even if it’s just to Steve. It’ll be just one more strike against Tony. 

“Oh come on,” Pepper wheedles, and when Tony starts loudly clattering things around on his work table she just talks a little louder, “This is all thanks to me, I think it’s only fair you tell me a name, or—“

“A home address, a social security number,” Tony continues, shooting her a suspicious look that barely covers his amusement, “I know how you are, you will absolutely track the guy down.”

“I just like to be prepared,” Pepper says with a sunny smile that is absolutely not fooling anyone. She ignores Tony’s deepening look of suspicion in favor of demanding “Come on, you have to give me  _ something.” _

Tony considers carefully, arranging and rearranging all the tools laid out in front of him, and he knows Pepper really isn’t going to let it go. “He likes cars,” Tony grudgingly admits and fights down his own smile when Pepper beams at him, rolling his eyes instead as he adds “What, you want his whole profile? He likes listening to the rain, unclear how he feels about long walks  _ in  _ it, he’s funny, although I’m also pretty sure he’s at least 27% hipster.”

“What?” Pepper asks around a sputtering laugh, but Tony just waves the question off because there’s really no way he can explain that without getting into who Bucky is.

“I don’t know what else you want,” Tony says with a shrug, and lets his gaze shift restlessly around the room as he slowly admits “He’s just...  _ different.” _

When he risks a glance back at Pepper it’s to find her giving him a considering look, and Tony has to resist the urge to fidget nervously because she knows him entirely too well. If he’s not careful the next thing he knows he’ll be admitting that he actually  _ likes  _ this new dom he’s found. Even worse, he likes  _ Bucky,  _ and Tony has been doing his best to not even admit that to himself.

“Different is— good,” Pepper says cautiously and Tony honestly can’t tell if she’s trying to avoid getting his hopes up, or her own, “He sounds—“

“He’ll do for now,” Tony interrupts again, because not getting his hopes up sounds like a pretty good idea, and he shrugs dismissively as he adds “who knows how long it’ll last.”

He tries his hardest to sound like he doesn’t care either way, but it’s hard when the thought has his heart lurching almost painfully in his chest. It’s true though, and the sooner he gets used to that idea the better. Eventually Bucky is going to get sick of him, or he’s going to get tired of having a sub he can’t tell anyone about, or he’ll find something better, and it’ll be over. It wouldn’t be the first time any of those things had run a dom off. 

And Tony will be fine when that happens. He  _ will  _ be, the withdrawal symptoms are already much better, and it’s not like Tony isn’t used to being alone.

Pepper doesn't look any more convinced than Tony feels, but all she says is “Well, I’m glad you’re feeling better, and I hope it works out.” Her smiles goes sharp as she adds “And just remember, if this guy ends up trying to use you, I  _ will  _ ruin him.” 

“Yes yes, very terrifying,” Tony says with a grin, because his first reaction is to defensively snap that  _ he wouldn’t,  _ even though Tony doesn’t know that for sure. He  _ can’t,  _ not when he’s fallen for it so many times before. 

He just has to keep his distance, enjoy it while it lasts, try not to make a fool of himself when it’s over and do his best to look out for red flags. Just because there haven’t been any yet, doesn’t mean there won’t be, and if this is all a plot to lull him into a false sense of security, well it’s working.

At least he has Pepper watching his back, and while he doesn’t think she’d actually be able to do a damn thing to a Winter Soldier, it’s definitely the thought that counts. When she leaves after an extra long lunch break Tony feels better than he has in a long time, not quite so alone.

He finds his eyes drifting over to the Jaguar, still sitting in the corner with it’s engine dangling from a hoist, and Tony thinks maybe he’s earned a break. He  _ has _ done a week’s worth of work already, after all.

Halfway through taking the engine apart he makes a traumatizing discovery, and his thumb is hovering over the send button before he catches himself. Once again, he’d been about to text Bucky without even thinking about it, and Tony swears quietly as himself as he starts viciously hitting the backspace button again.

Then he pauses.

Bucky  _ had  _ said that he enjoys spending time together, that he thinks Tony is funny, that he  _ already likes him.  _ He’d been really adamant about it, in fact, and he probably won’t mind if Tony texts him every now and then, right? Worst case scenario, Bucky will just ignore it.

Tony continues debating back and forth as he retypes the message, and he chews on his lip for a second before finally hitting send.

It’s fine, it’s not like he’s getting attached or anything. He totally knows what he’s doing.

Snowflake  
  
**Monday** 8:36 PM   
Hypothetically speaking... if you found what looks a lot lie a mouse nest inside an engine block, how could you tell if the little bastard is still living somewhere inside the car?!  
Asking for a friend   


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> saw this on Tumblr and I think it's a lovely idea--feel free to copy and paste into your own fics!!
> 
> Emoji Key for those who don't know what to say in the comments!
> 
> ❤ = you wish you could kudos again  
> 😭 = I got you right in the feels  
> 🔥 = this was so hot!  
> 🐰 = it’s so fluffy!

**Author's Note:**

> Hi folks, just a short note that for the month of August, we will be taking a break from posting new parts of Bound To You. We're taking some time off so we can work on writing new parts for this series as well as writing other stories that have been on the back burner. We thank you all for your amazing enthusiasm for this series and encourage you to come yell about it with us on tumblr or Discord! 
> 
> On Discord we are:  
> riotfalling#3153  
> Stella ⭐ crownofstardustandbone#4938
> 
> And on Tumblr we are:  
> TheRollingStonys  
> RiotFalling
> 
> Much love from us both to you all 💖


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